Mononoke
by notmanos
Summary: The comics 'Mariko' story, 'updated' to fit the movieverse and my peculiar demonverse.
1. Part 1

Disclaimer:The character of Logan & all X Men is also owned by 20th Century Fox and Marvel Comics.No copyright infringement intended. (Angel does not appear, but there are references.) Bob is still mine - hands off. 

N.B.: Takes place shortly after the "X Men" movie, and TBOO ( love these acronyms...) 

    MONONOKE 

Mononoke (n): Vengeful ghost; spectre. 

Prologue 

    Haido was enjoying his first Cuban cigar of the evening,gazing out the window of his suite that overlooked the park,when he heard the door open,and saw in the dark reflection of the glass someone he had not seen for a long time:Lee. 

"What is it?"He asked,not bothering to turn around.Lee was always trouble. 

"Sir,"he said nervously,casting his eyes down to the carpet even though Haido wasn't even looking at him."It seems some people have been prying into the Yashida business.The Yashidas and their samurai." 

There was something he hadn't heard about in a long time.He exhaled a plume of white smoke that curled in the air before him,riding the invisible currents of the air conditioning before meeting the glass and spreading out,losing cohesion,and he remembered how the Yashidas had done much the same thing-only in a much more bloody way. 

Some things just weren't worth bringing up;some ghosts should simply remain dead.Unconsciously,he traced the livid scars that crossed his face,from his left cheek,across the bridge of his nose,and ended on his right cheek,little furrows of skin that no longer hurt but were reminders of the Yashida clan and what they had done to him so long ago.He had been one of the few to survive at that time,and it was quite possible he was now the only living member of that massacre. 

Him and the samurai,of course.His stomach churned at the thought,and he clenched a fist in sudden,resurfacing anger. 

If that bastard was alive,this was his chance to pay. 

"Who's digging?" 

"I don't know,some demon-" 

"Do you know where they can be found?"He interrupted impatiently.The boy never understand what was asked of him;if he didn't pity him for his slowness he'd have gotten rid of him years ago. 

The young man nodded,his black hair as shiny as enamel in the reflected light leaking in from the open door,and after a moment Lee seemed to realize Haido still wasn't looking at him,only gazing at his reflection in the glass."Yes sir,I know exactly where they are." 

"Fine.Send Hellion to take care of them." 

"Yes sir,"he said,giving him a nod that turned into a clumsy bow before he backed out of the room.Or at least he tried;Lee backed his ass into the door jamb first,but rather than straighten out and walk like a normal person,he simply craned his neck in an awkward way and continued backing out. 

As soon as the door closed,Haido shook his head in disgust.He could understand the boy being scared of him-who wasn't?-but he took it to the point of sheer idiocy,which was not a far walk from his normal state. 

He really had to have him killed one of these days. 

*** 

Tokyo,Japan-1977 

Logan wondered why he had come back here again as he drank his beer at the bar,so used to the surreptitious glances of the other patrons he no longer registered them anymore. 

No,he knew damn well why he'd come back-he'd heard about the sale of the Kajahara estate.He had to come see what was done to it.It had been bought by a local church ( Buddhist, not Shinto) who were turning most of the grounds into a meditation garden and retreat.Although he still thought most of Akira's 'official' descendants were sons of bitches,at least they had done good there-Akira probably would have liked that.He was very Zen. 

Most people who had never actually been to Japan-or had only ever been to the touristy spots-probably wouldn't believe that they had the equivalent of Western seedy bars,but they did,and this one (which translated in English to the "Golden Crane" ) was the best of the worst:the Crane was all dark wood and dim,dirty yellow lighting,the wooden tables and chairs set in haphazard patterns around and within pools of shadows,possibly to hide the fact that the furniture was so old and splintered it probably dated to World War Two. 

It was a tiny place too-at best it couldn't have seated more than fifty people-and it smelled inevitably of beer, sawdust,bad cigarettes,and must,as if the wood was afflicted with rising damp.It probably was,but the crusty bar owner,a guy everyone referred to by his first name (Masatake),wouldn't care until it started actually falling apart and injuring customers. 

The bartender tonight was old Shunichi,who was even crustier and more misanthropic than Masatake.He was as bald as an egg and wore a patch over his left eye,with the angry red seam of an old,ropy scar trailing out from the bottom of the patch.Supposedly he'd either lost his eye in the war or in a knife fight with some drunken yahoos in the '50's-it depended on which story you wished to believe,and which he felt like telling that day.At first,Logan thought he was giving him the evil eye and the disdainful,almost resentful treatment because he was a Westerner,but he soon found out old Shunichi treated everyone that way,as if he was doing you a favor by taking your money and letting you drink beer out of occasionally dirty glasses.He liked the old guy. 

Logan sat at the poor excuse for a bar,so scarred by years of cigarette burns and ill use that if you weren't careful your beer glass could get caught in a rut and topple over;and the padding on the stools had been compressed so much you could feel the wood underneath,making your ass almost instantly numb.But he liked it because he has a good view of both the front door and the narrow corridor that led to the bathrooms and a small back exit that led to the trash strewn alley that was a straight shot over to the local 'soapland' (brothel-not that they were legal,but this was the 'red light' district,and it was amazing what no one seemed to notice around here). 

There was a mirror over the bar,and even though it was plastic as opposed to glass,it had spider webs of cracks over half of it,and the rest of it was so grimy with years of smoke it could barely reflect light and movement.But that was okay,as Logan didn't need it:with his enhanced senses,he could hear every single shift of a seat,every footstep,every inhalation from a cigarette,every exhale,every whispered conversation,and he could smell everyone too,despite the miasma of other bar odors.He knew everything going on around him,unless he worked hard to ignore them. 

Logan was gulping down the last of his beer (he must have caught Shunichi in a rare good mood because the glass was clean this time),when he noticed the front door open out of the corner of his eye,and saw trouble walk in the Golden Crane. 

They were big muscular men in expensive suits,pale grey and well tailored,so well tailored he could see the tell tale bulges of guns in shoulder holsters.Others must have seen them to,or recognized the men,because there was a quite but definitive mass exodus out the back.Even surly Shunichi seemed to slink back into the shadows at the far end of the bar. 

The two men stepped aside,allowing a younger,smaller man in a more expensive suit to come in,his dark tie askew on his white shirt as if a big gust of wind had come up just as he entered the bar.He exuded an arrogance and sense of entitlement only those born into wealth and privilege could,and two more big bodyguards followed him in.They were trying to play it cool and intimidating behind their black sunglasses,but even from here Logan could smell the fear. 

They had to be Yakuza or from one of the local crime families,because there was little chance someone as wealthy as this boy would even dare to slum in this part of town,even surrounded as he was by this wall of muscle.Even a member of a powerful crime family was taking a big chance coming here,which might explain the fear of the bodyguards. 

The boy swaggered over to him and asked in Japanese,with a derisive and mocking tone,"Speak Japanese,white pig?" 

He casually drank the rest of his beer,and without even looking in his direction replied,in Japanese,"Better than you,asshole." 

Two of the bodyguards snickered while the young man,who had a sharp and narrow visage and a complexion pockmarked with acne scars that his wealth couldn't protect him from,narrowed his hazel eyes until they were angry slits in his hatchet face."Do you know who you're talking to,fuckface?"He snarled in English,with a definite California accent.Not a surprise there-a lot of the wealthy kids went to school in America.Most of the crime families had 'satellites' there,although none were as widespread as the Yakuza itself.The boy slid onto the stool beside him as gingerly as if it was a landmine. 

Logan put his empty glass down and slowly turned towards the boy-early twenties at most-and gazed at him with unmitigated contempt."Do you know who you're talking to,asswipe?" 

There was a click of a round popping into the chamber of a gun,and Logan was well aware there was a bodyguard behind him and to his right,just visible out of the corner of his eye,aiming the gun at his back."An American shit for brains who doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut,"the boy said,feeling empowered by his bodyguard. 

Logan smirked,and couldn't quite contain his chuckling.The boy's severe face contorted,his lips twisting in a contemptuous snarl."What the fuck's so funny,jackass?" 

"You and your boys,"he said,and then Logan moved. 

He had been alive for more years than he could count-in fact,he did not count.He didn't really want to know how old he was,or how much he had seen and forgotten.He forgot a lot:it was just easier that way.But Logan knew one thing-he couldn't be beaten in a fight.Being a mutant-a freak-you had to learn to defend yourself and do it well, because when people found out-and they inevitably did;you could never quite cover it up well enough not to get noticed eventually-they rarely accepted you with open arms.No,in fact they usually tried to kill you,or at least run you out of town on a rail.You were something to be feared and despised and hated,like a leper in Medieval times, and Logan knew he often got singled out for special contempt,because he didn't get sick,he didn't get hurt (for long), he didn't age... 

He didn't die.And the worst part was he knew that from personal experience. 

Along with his heightened senses and a resistance to injury,he had superior reflexes,which the bodyguard behind him discovered first hand.In a single smooth movement,Logan was off his bar stool and on him,and he never even had a chance to tighten his finger on the trigger.Logan grabbed his arm and twisted sharply,snapping his wrist as he turned and drove his elbow straight into the man's face with another sickening crack of bone.The man barely had time to cry out-and the gun was still falling from his hand,not yet hitting the floor-when the second and third bodyguards advanced on him,both reaching for their weapons. 

Logan slammed a flattened palm straight into the face of the closest one,hard enough to shatter his nose instantaneously and drive it into his face.With just a bit more pressure Logan could have driven his shattered cartilage straight up into his brain,killing him almost instantly,but he had no desire to kill these men,not yet;they were simply doing the job they were hired for.He then turned into a kick that caught the second bodyguard square in the jaw,and Logan thought he felt it crunch beneath the heel of his boot on impact as the bodyguard fell straight into the one with the broken nose,and they both went down in a messy heap on the dusty floor as the one remaining bodyguard by the door took aim and fired. 

Logan felt the impact of the bullet,a needle hot pain that ripped through his chest and out his back,and he paused briefly,eye to eye (well,sunglasses) with the startled bodyguard,who stank of vinegary fear.Logan snarled at him, upper lip curling and revealing a canine tooth that just might have been a little sharper than normal."That fucking hurt,"he snapped,simply punching him,a hard right cross that caught the bodyguard ironically off guard.The big guy must have had a glass jaw,because he dropped like a stone. 

Logan plucked the gun out of his hand and spun on his heels,cocking it and aiming it at the boy,who had remained seated on the stool,jaw hanging open in obvious shock."For the record,"Logan snarled,stalking up to him with the still warm gun held out before him."I'm Canadian not American,jerkoff." 

The boy cringed,stinking of fear,and leaned back until he was completely against the bar in a fruitless attempt to avoid the nearing gun."Okay,you passed,you passed!"He squealed,holding up his hands to show he was unarmed. 

Logan pressed the barrel of the gun against the boy's temple,aware it was probably burning his skin but not caring in the least,and growled,"What?" 

"You passed the test,"the boy said,eyes closed tightly both from pain and the desire not to see the gun about to splatter his brains all over the bar."You're the gaijin we were looking for." 

"What the hell does that mean?" 

"It means my brother is a complete fucking moron,"a woman said from the doorway,and grabbing the boy hard by the throat,Logan instantly turned himself and the gun towards the door. 

The woman in the doorway did not move;her hands were up on the jamb,so there was no need to further prove she was not carrying a weapon.She had a lovely face,as delicate as a porcelain doll's,but she looked mucho pissed at the moment,giving her helpless brother the death glare."We have so few guards,and you risk four of them for this." 

"They're not dead,"he squeaked,as well as he could with Logan's hand gripping his throat. 

"No,but they're out of commission,aren't they?"She argued,kicking one in the shoulder blades.He groaned,but wasn't conscious enough to get up.Her hazel eyes scudded to Logan,and she grimaced in genuine embarrassment."I apologize,Kajahara-san.We really mean you no harm.My brother's just an idiot." 

"I noticed,"he replied,and got no sense that the woman was lying,so he tossed the boy aside,throwing him on the floor next to his heap of bleeding,groaning bodyguards."But if you know who I am,why did you even think you could take me like this?"Her use of the name Kajahara told him they knew much more about him than he was comfortable with. 

"If you were the guy,we couldn't,"the boy rasped from the floor,pushing himself away from his men with his hands. Afraid of blood,or just getting his suit dirty? 

"If you'll ignore him and listen to me,"the woman said reasonably,shooting her brother another brief,dirty look.The most amazing thing was Logan could smell no fear from her,just irritation at her stupid brother.That intrigued him,especially since he was still holding the gun,and she knew exactly what he was (or at least thought she did)."We have a proposition for you." 

*** 

Los Angeles,California-Present Day 

    The Cathouse was just like any other club in downtown L.A. striving to be the next trendy spot for celebrities and their hangers on alike-noisy and vulgar,and striving far too hard to be cool without actually being cool.This was exactly why Emma really hated this city. 

She got past the bouncers and walked down the steps into the sunken club,a strange drum and bass remix of BT's "Blue Skies" thudding through the sound system as bright purple and urine yellow lights spun in counter rhythm, chasing each other over floors and walls covered with leopard spot and tiger striped patterns.Even the few scattered booths and tables before the wide dance floor had a sort of spotty ocelot pattern painted on them,and she could not believe someone had deliberately set out to make a club this goddamned ugly.There were rumors it was going bankrupt,and as far as she was concerned,such a blessing couldn't happen fast enough. 

She went to the bar,and after shouting a question or two to the heavily pierced bartender,he pointed her in the direction of a booth on the far side of the club,next to the crowded dance floor.In the primary color bright shadows, constantly invading and retreating,it was hard to tell the man in the booth was not human,but the closer she got the more obvious it was.His head seemed to big,for one,and his small knot of narrow dreadlocks seemed to move even when he didn't.She suppressed a small shudder;god,she hated demons. 

He looked up as she slid into his booth,and she saw he had a rather big face,almost human,except for slits in the center of his face as opposed to a nose,and bluish tinged skin that looked to have the texture of stucco.She knew she was not one talk about skin:far away,it looked normal,but up close it looked wrong,almost waxen. 

"Are you the one looking for information?"She shouted as quietly as possible. 

The big headed demon gave her a strange look with his small golden eyes,something like a grin forming on his thin lipped,shark like mouth."That depends.What kind of info you got for me,babe?" 

Babe-oh,he was going to pay for that."About-"she leaned forward conspiratorily."-the Yashidas." 

He nodded,and slid over closer to her on the vinyl seat."As a matter of fact,I am.What have you got for me?" 

Emma glanced around as if making sure the coast was clear,really playing it up for this asshole,and then leaned in, almost close enough to touch."First tell me why you want to know." 

"I'm an investigator,"he said back,and she caught a whiff of his rum laced breath."Client asked me too." 

"Why?" 

He shrugged massive,misshapen shoulders barely hidden beneath a denim jacket."Got me." 

"Who is this 'client'?" 

Big Head put a delicately clawed blue finger up to his thin lips."Confidentiality,sorry ducks.So what have you got for me?" 

"First,can you protect me?" 

His textured forehead wrinkled in consternation."Yeah,I guess.Man,what is it about these people that makes others so wiggy?" 

"It's not the Yashidas you have to worry about,"she told him,putting her hand on his arm.His arm felt like a metal cable under the denim."It's people who want to leave the Yashidas dead."At his curious look,she added,"Like my client." 

And then he burst into flames. 

The flames,blue as opposed to your typical red-orange,were superheated,therefore he barely had time to scream as the flames sped up from his arm to his torso,head,and legs,and as she pushed out of the booth and left the table,he was already dead even though the flames had not completely consumed his body yet. 

People screamed,and she saw the bartender racing in her direction with a fire extinguisher,and felt the blue flames still flickering through her fingers,tickling her skin.She held up her hand and made a show of blowing the flames out. If he noticed at all,he may have seen that her skin was untouched."Don't worry,it'll burn out before it reaches the furniture,"she assured him,and then,grinning at the stunned look on his face,Hellion walked out of the club. 

    1 

    It was a forest like any other forest in the cold,low lying foothills of the Canadian Rockies,the saw toothed,snow capped peaks looming like a natural barricade on the horizon,reducing the sky to a few shreds of pale blue with small tufts of cottony clouds visible here and there like an afterthought.It was crisp but not what Logan would actually call cold;he couldn't see his breath,and there were no patches of snow to be seen in the pine forest,not even in the most shady spots beneath,and the air was sharp with that unique fragrance of greenery untouched-or at least little used-by human beings. 

Birds flitted and sang in the high branches above,the canopy of tightly interlaced branches overhead deepening shadows and dappling the sunlight as he tread carefully over the loamy forest floor,not sure where he was headed but sure he was close.This area-no different from any of the others he had seen in the last four days-still seemed obscurely familiar,as if he should know it. 

As he walked,he noted the scent of cougar and wolf,deer and bear,and dozens upon dozens of different animals;he was technically alone save for several small animals (birds,squirrels,voles,hares),at least for now.If he stayed until nightfall,not bothering to start up his motorcycle again,it might be a different story. 

Logan was 'walking' his bike because it was simply too treacherous to use in woods this thick,and besides,he hated to defile one of the few unspoiled,non clearcut areas left around here. 

The dense copses of towering firs and ancient pines eventually gave way to a sort of clearing,overgrown with weeds cropped often by grazing animals,enough that he could just make out the rectangular confines of an old foundation, and the scent of ash and gasoline,so old they were barely detectable beneath the scent of pine and wildflowers. 

His heart skipped a beat as he realized this was it. 

Logan looked up at the sky,and suddenly wished it was night,because maybe if he could see the constellations he'd know for sure... 

No,this couldn't be.This could be any destroyed,long abandoned cabin...but he didn't believe that.His own personal paradox,the maddening sense of deja vu,tempered with the familiar feeling that nothing was truly known to him, made him feel like he was going to start hyperventilating any second now. 

This was his home.This was once one of his homes. 

There was no way to verify that,and he knew his memories were less than trustworthy things,but his gut told him this was the place,and his instincts were about the only reliable thing he had. 

He put the kickstand out and left his bike on what may have once been a path or even some kind of rudimentary driveway (now it was a scrubby patch of wild grass,foxglove,and Queen Anne's lace),and crouched down in the wildflowers,sifting through morning glory vines and dandelions in search of something,some remnant of the former house and the man who used to live here. 

He found ashes,cigarette butts that belonged to men who didn't smell anything like him,but finally,in a tangle of blackberry bushes that smelled strongly of bear and deer,he found a burnt,yellowed corner of a book page.The print was small,and it was so weathered it was as fragile as parchment,but he was sure it was his.Thorns pricked at his skin and tore at his clothes as he reached into the tangled thicket,sifting through black ash for something else, anything,suddenly realizing he was hoping to find a photograph.Why? 

His wife;he wanted to find a photo of his wife,his family,even himself.Something to prove there had been a life before this. 

He was on his hands and knees in the blackberry thicket,sneezing from the inhalation of ash that had never quite broken down,when he heard his cell phone ring back on his bike.He responded mindlessly,pulling himself out of the tangle of briars,and was half way to his bike when it suddenly occurred to him he didn't have a cell phone. 

But the ringing continued,and he searched his bike,finally finding the small,folded up Nokia in the seat storage area of the bike,which he had never used. 

Although he was as suspicious as hell,curiosity got the better of him,and he flipped the phone open and activated it. "Who the fuck is this?"He demanded. 

"It's fucking me,sunshine,"Bob replied cheerily,loud music pounding in the background."Don't freak out,mate,I left you the phone." 

"Why?"He wondered,leaning against the bike,scowling at the trees. 

"How else was I gonna get a hold of you?I really didn't want to go through a telepath." 

Logan rubbed his eyes wearily."You're stalking me,aren't you?" 

Bob chuckled,the music continuing its cacophonous pounding in the background."Hey,how many people get a free cell phone?I wasn't gonna use it unless it was important.Where are you now?" 

"Nowhere." 

"Ah-found it?Is there anything left?" 

On the off chance that Bob could somehow see him,he held his middle finger out towards the sky."What's so important,Bob?" 

"Well,I hit paydirt,but it turned out to be radioactive." 

"Speak English.I'm not in the mood to be dicked around." 

"Well,it depends on who's doing the dicking,doesn't it?"He then added quickly,"Kidding,Logan,don't hang up." 

"Then talk fast because this connections about to get very bad." 

"Aren't we Mister Impatient?Look,I think I may have found you in Japan,but someone would rather I didn't." 

"Huh?"Logan considered what Bob had just said very carefully,but it stopped short of making any sense.""I'm not in Japan." 

"Now,no-but you were in 1977." 

A cold shock ran through Logan,and for a moment he was speechless,his heart rate jumping up to triple time.'77? That was what...twenty five years ago?Ten years before his memories-the meager ones he had,starting with waking up naked in the snow at what was apparently a destroyed military compound-began."How do you know?"He finally asked. 

"Well,your knowledge of Japanese-and your wife,of course-got me looking around,and a vamp pal of mine in Osaka found out something interesting.Apparently there was a bunch of bloody gang wars in Tokyo in the late seventies,bleeding into the early '80's-and I do mean bleeding.Of course,the official position of the Tokyo police is that never happened,but both Amnesty International and the records of the former KGB confirm that it occurred." 

"The KGB?" 

"Yeah.Russia had a little territorial dispute with Japan over some dinky little islands-I believe it's still ongoing-and they were also the closest capitalist running dog society to them,not counting Hong Kong,so you better believe they kept their eyes on them." 

Logan almost asked how Bob could get a hold of KGB records,but then decided that wasn't important.Bob was Bob, meaning there was no door closed to him."So what does this have to do with me?" 

"Well,there was one family in particular-the Takabes-who were trying to consolidate their power as the only big cheese crime family in Tokyo at the time,and they did that by brutally slaughtering all the competition and potential competition.One of the last on their hit list was a moderately corrupt but relatively straight family called the Yashidas,whom someone in the Takabes had taken a personal dislike to.Anyhoo,the desperate Yashidas apparently went off and hired themselves a protector,one of the few gaijin from a samurai bloodline-well,adopted bloodline:the guy in question's father or grandfather was literally although not legally adopted by a famous samurai named Akira Kajahara-a guy who came to be referred to as Ikkitousen-peerless warrior-or Mouken -" 

"Savage dog,"Logan said,translating for him. 

"Right,pretty much depended on what side of the fence you were on,"Bob continued smoothly,as if he had never been interrupted."The Takabes figured he was a big joke-nearly everyone did-but this guy turned out to be a big bad ass. He tightened up Yashida security to the point that the White House would have been impressed,and the Takabes could just not contain him:they could not beat him down,they could not kill him,and believe me,they tried often.The patriarch of the Takabes began to take this personally,and he took it out on every other family in his grasp,and sent out international feelers,looking for a merc bad enough to take this guy-and the Yashidas-down.Then there was a big rift in the family in about 1980,and the family began to fall apart.The son of the Yashidas-who was the head of the family biz since the old man had been incapacitated in a car bomb attack back in '77-was successfully killed by the Takabes when he snuck out to a geisha place,and there was a power struggle over who was to take over.Apparently a reformer had it for a while,trying to phase out all of the criminal and crooked elements in the family,with the help of the gaijin samurai." 

Bob paused,and Logan frowned at him down the open phone line,even though there was no way Bob could see it (or was there?)."Don't leave me hangin'-what happened?" 

Bob sighed,letting the music flood the silence for a moment.Logan thought he recognized it as Tool,but he wasn't sure."A massacre.Some members of the Yashida clan were upset at the attempts to reform,and collaborated with the Takabes to get rid of the reformer and the samurai.I have no official account of what exactly happened,but the KGB refer to it as "Bloody Friday"-sixty seven dead or missing,and massive property damage.The reformer and some of the supporters bit it,but so did many of the traitorous Yashidas,and nearly every single member of the Takabes.Their entire criminal empire collapsed that night and has never been rebuilt,and the Yashidas are a pitiful shadow of themselves.They went completely into crime after the pieces were picked up,with minor efforts to reform,but they're penny ante players on the black market:no one takes them seriously anymore." 

"So what does this have to do with me?" 

"I think you're the samurai,Logan-Ikkitousen.The description,both physical and simply "mad,bad,and dangerous to know" fits,but what has really convinced me is all the corpses popping up." 

Logan was glad he had the bike to sit on,otherwise he was relatively sure he'd have collapsed to the ground. "Corpses?From "Bloody Friday"?" 

"No,I wish.You know the vamp pal I had checking things out in Osaka?He ended up staked the other night.But the weirdest thing was I had a Goku demon I know,a good contact named Draakan,check out what he could from here, because L.A. and the surrounding area has a significant Japanese population.He got toasted last night in a tacky nightclub where he had set up shop." 

"Toasted?" 

"It was like spontaneous combustion-he burned fast and super hot,yet barely scorched the furniture.And apparently he was set on fire by-and I'm quoting here-a "hottie"-I don't think a pun was intended-a barely legal girl,at least half Asian,who turned him into a crispy critter just by touching him.She herself appeared unharmed and unconcerned." 

"A mutant?"He groaned,disappointed but not at all shocked. 

"That's my guess,some kind of touch pyrokinetic,because I don't know of any fire demon that can pass for even a moment as human,and a powerful enough witch would only have to cast a spell;she wouldn't necessarily have to have been there.Helga's hitting her contacts,seeing if there's a mutant merc with a penchant for fiery executions out there,but so far she has bupkis.I'm thinking fire woman may be in private employ,which will make her real difficult to find." 

"Or Organization." 

"That's a possibility,yes." 

Logan's shoulders sagged and he sighed,torn between excitement,bewilderment,and anger.He couldn't even attempt to look into his past without stirring up a mountain of shit.Suddenly,it occurred to him:"Are you in danger?" 

"I doubt it.I think I can handle myself.But you may want to come down here and have a look at things for yourself before someone erases every single last trace of it." 

"You really think I was involved in this?" 

"I really think so.I'm trying to get my hands on some surveillance photos from that era too,photos that might show the Yashida family with their gaijin samurai."Bob paused briefly,then added,with some empathy,"If you've found something important there,though,Logan,this can wait.I'll keep you posted." 


	2. Part 2

Logan looked around at the small clearing,a weedy field that now contained the remains of a foundation that used to be his home,and little more than a handful of ashes.There was nothing here but pain,memories that threatened to surface but never did,and he had nothing to show for it but the crumbling corner of a desecrated book. 

And Bob might have photos... 

Logan wiped his sooty hands off on the legs of his jeans,the phone wedged between his ear and shoulder,and said,"If I make good time I should be there tomorrow." 

"Are you sure?You could wait until I confirm-" 

"There's nothing for me here,"he admitted,feeling a slight twinge in his stomach.He had had hopes of something here, some great epiphany,some surge of remembrance,but this place was as ruined and empty as most of his memory. 

"All right.Be expectin' you,mate.Take care." 

"Yeah,you too.Keep a fire extinguisher handy." 

"Asbestos codpiece in place,"Bob said,with a bizarre amount of cheerfulness. 

"You're a strange man,"Logan sighed,flipping the phone shut. 

Now that he knew where this place was,Logan was sure he could find it again.But he had no idea why he'd want to. 

*** 

Tokyo,Japan-1977 

    Mariko Yashida glanced out the dining room window as her brother settled down with his newspaper and morning drink of  Scotch (with soda added-well,it was breakfast,after all),and saw their samurai practicing some kind of meditation routine. 

For the meantime,he was staying in a guest house at the back of the estate,and he was out in front of it,just beneath the cherry trees that blocked the view of the main house.The trees were still in bloom but were just about done for the season,so if the wind came up it swirled petals in the air that fell down around him like blush tinted snow.He never seemed to noticed. 

She didn't know what exactly he was doing.It looked like some form of tai'chi,only he was doing it with a long, curved sword with an ornate black haft-supposedly something from Kajahara,passed on to him by his grandfather or father (it was not clear which,and he never clarified).He didn't use swords,though;just for meditation.He was tracing slow patterns through the air,moving as if he was underwater,dressed only in loose black pants,and she found watching him sort of hypnotic. 

It didn't hurt that he had a really...impressive looking body.He was a bit hairy-she didn't like her guys that hairy-but there was no arguing with that chiseled chest ( in spite of the black fuzz of hair) and well muscled arms that would have been at home on a marble statue by a Renaissance artist.He had a nice back too,which struck her as funny;she never much thought about men's backs before.Sort of like men's butts:she didn't really know a good one when she saw it more than she knew a bad one when she saw it,but that was a damn nice back.He just looked strong,like he could kick some major ass. 

"What's so interesting?"Ryuichi asked,putting down his paper and glancing out the window.Much to her parents horror,ever since he returned from UCLA,he insisted on being called 'Ryan',the nickname his American friends had given him.She could understand-she always thought her name was clumsy,but she never liked 'Mari' either.She was just unhappy with her name (her middle name,Sakamae ,was even worse). 

Logan was in the shadows of the overhanging bows,but his sword caught a stray shaft of golden sunlight and reflected it back towards the house just as Ryan looked,making him flinch and turn away."What the fuck's he doing?"He asked crossly,rubbing his eyes.He was still stinging from being humiliated the night before last,and the burn from the gun barrel shoved against his head was still visible,even though he had changed the part in his hair in an attempt to cover it up.As far as she was concerned,it was the least he deserved;that was an asinine stunt he pulled,and they were so lucky Logan was not actually shot,although she still didn't know how Jubei could have missed at such close range. 

"I think it's some form of meditation,"she said."Enhances the senses or something."She had guessed that last bit because it looked like he was keeping his eyes closed.He moved with a fluid,almost animal grace,like a tiger;you could even see those muscles rippling under the skin... 

Okay,she needed to go on a date as soon as possible-when she was ogling strange,hairy Westerners,she knew it was bad. 

He snorted derisively."Where does the sword come into it?" 

She shrugged,turning her attention back to her French toast-a bad habit she had picked up at college.But there was nothing like starting a day with starch and maple syrup."I don't know.Maybe he's teaching himself to fight even while blind." 

"Oh,that's bound to be useful,"he said,rolling his eyes. 

"When you can't even fight sighted,I'm not sure you're allowed to comment,"she noted wryly,helping herself to a forkful of toast. 

She kept her eyes on her plate to try and keep from laughing,aware he was probably giving her the evil look that made him look exactly like a petulant five year old who had just missed out on a cookie."Oh,fuck you,Mari.If you're such a world class butt kicker,join the security staff." 

"I never said I was great,I'm just better than you,"she pointed out,grinning in lieu of laughing.When she was going to UCLA-Berkeley,there was a rapist running around the campus,so she and a few girlfriends took a self-defense course,but she had never really had to use it.Yet the fact that she knew any fighting techniques at all put her far ahead of Ryan,who couldn't even win a slap fight with an old woman. 

"Too bad you weren't born a boy,"he said snidely. 

She kicked him sharply in the shin underneath the table,feeling a surge of old anger at that. 

"Ow!"He yelped,shoving his chair back and making a show of grabbing his leg."That hurt,damn it!" 

"Good,now you know how I feel,"she snapped,looking back at Logan as she felt a flush of angry heat rise to her face. 

She was older than Ryan by two and a half years-not a huge gap,but the business should have fallen to her when the Takabes car bomb killed their mother and permanently crippled and disfigured their father two months ago.But her family was hopelessly old fashioned,and seemed to think a woman could not run the family business-even though she was the one with the degree in business administration,not Ryan (he had majored in getting high-he managed to squeak by with a liberal arts degree,and not even he was sure what that was),and even her father had come to her for financial advice (on the sly) before the attack.And now she was basically running the family business behind the scenes because Ryan couldn't make decision one.He was resistant to dropping the drug running and black market portion of the family business,which she felt was a necessity-Yashida Consolidated was making enough money that they could go permanently legitimate,and she felt with a few reforms she could tighten Consolidated into a great profit maker that would more than make up for the loss of the black market sales.But she was just a 'woman'-what the hell did she know? 

God,she hated it.She hated being dismissed as stupid and weak because she was a woman,when she knew goddamn well she was the brains of this family.If this was the U.S.,she could sue over this blatant discrimination. 

Logan had stopped,lowering the sword slowly to his side,and then moved at normal speed for the first time in fifteen minutes.He looked up in the direction of the second floor dining room's bay window and frowned,eyes wide open. She knew he couldn't see them-not only was it too far away,but the way the early morning sunlight was hitting the outside of the window would make the glare painful.But she knew,with the slightest of shocks,that he knew he was being watched from here.How? 

Who exactly was he? 

They had found precious little information on any of the Logans;they were like shadows,like ghosts,as if they didn't actually exist at all.The name on his passport was 'Logan Smith',but if that was his real name,her name was Jane Doe.He had told her he just liked being called Logan,without supplying another name (or indicating whether that was a first or family name),and it made her wonder what he was running from.Maybe he was a fugitive,or perhaps just on the run from something (or somebodies) less than legal-but could she talk?Her family was hip deep in corruption;if he was a wanted man,she could hardly point fingers. 

He had some story to tell,she knew that.There was something constantly lurking in the back of his green eyes, something haunted,and she just bet he was a living storehouse of secrets,secrets he would probably never tell.She had some secrets of her own-she wondered if he'd be willing to trade. 

"Do we even know we can trust him?"Ryan asked,still sounding petulant,as he followed her gaze out the window. Logan was no longer looking up here-he had turned away,and was walking back to the guest house.She was surprised to find she was a little disappointed the show was over. 

"Now you bring that up,"she sighed,watching his retreating back.Yes,very nice;he sort of walked like a tiger too,didn't he?Not so much walked as stalked,head down and shoulders high,padding barefoot over the grass and confetti of blossoms.He looked like a predatory beast of some sort,at any rate,and she found something deeply unsettling about that.But why?He was clearly human.Right? 

"Well,if he took money from us,the Takabe's could buy him for a better price." 

"He's not doing this for the money,"she snapped impatiently.She figured if he actually played by some of the quaintly old fashioned samurai rules,he'd be offended by the offer of cash (and she bet her life on it that he did-standing in the doorway of the bar and assuming he would never hurt an innocent),and he was,though even he seemed surprised by the amount of the offer (although in yen,at current conversion rates it was the equivalent of fifty thousand dollars American).Before he could storm off,she leveled with him:yes,they were desperate,and yes,they weren't exactly free of corruption.But they were working to fix that,and yet the Takabes were hunting them down and killing them like dogs-like they had already murdered her mother,seven cousins,a great uncle,two great aunts,thirteen employees,and her grandmother,and permanently crippled and disfigured their father-and because most of the police were on the Takabe payroll,there was no help there..The genuine tears in her eyes made him pause, and she thought she saw,for a moment,something like empathy in his eyes;she thought he had perhaps lost people to violence too.She was sure he wouldn't have said no,even before Ryan piped up-finally finding his voice again-and mentioned the blood debt the Kajaharas owed the Yashidas. 

That was honestly questionable-somewhere in antiquity,possibly the time of Akira Kajahara,or even before-a Yashida spared the life of a Kajahara when he didn't have to,deciding to leave it as a 'debt' to be paid in the future. But the Yashidas never had cause to call on the debt...until now. 

Of course,no Kajahara was technically obligated to pay it,and certainly not Logan;he wasn't really Kajahara blood. Maybe his father or grandfather (again,that was never made clear in any records,although judging from the physical description,Logan looked a lot like his father/grandfather) was 'adopted' into the ways of the samurai by Akira Kajahara-who had never married and had no direct descendants-but that did not make him responsible to pay his debts,be they legal or archaic old fashioned 'societal' ones. 

But something about Logan,as tough and quasi-bestial as he seemed,still struck her as noble;that hideous 'noble savage' archetype come to life.When he said he'd have to think about it and get back to them,Ryan was sure they had blown it,but she had a feeling they would see him again,so therefore she was not surprised when he showed up on the estate the next day (somehow completely bypassing security-Ryan thought that meant their security was a joke,but she thought that just showed how good he really was). 

He had caveats,though:they had to follow his instructions and orders to the letter,and they had to clean up the business.If they agreed to those terms,he would work for them.Ryan balked at the business request,but she instantly agreed,and evil eyed Ryan until he gave in.Although it didn't exactly follow the old samurai rules,she had a legal contract drawn up and everyone signed it,just to keep things on an even playing field-both to keep Logan in line,and to keep Ryan to the "cleaning up the business" promise. 

She still remembered Logan giving her a queer look,and then whispering to her,as Ryan briefly argued with their lawyer:"You're the smart one-why ain't you running this place?" 

She grimaced,and whispered back bitterly,"I'm not man enough." 

He shrugged,and replied quietly,before turning away:"You're more manly than him." 

It was really hard for her to keep her laugh disguised as a sudden coughing fit,but she managed somehow,despite the impatient look Ryan gave her.Poor Ryan-maybe he was born the 'right' gender,but someone forgot to sprinkle in the brain cells. 

"You're sure about that?"Ryan continued,rubbing his shin.Oh come on,she didn't kick him that hard.What a big baby."It could all be an act,you know." 

"Like you acting like you run the business?"She asked pointedly,gazing into his eyes. 

He scowled at her,trying to look evil but simply managing to look like a thwarted child again."The hell with you, Mari.This is my business whether you like it or not." 

"We'd be bankrupt in a day if I left any decision up to you." 

"Then why don't you?"He snapped,taking a stiff gulp of his Scotch.That was his idea of breakfast:'hair of the dog' and cigarettes.She didn't want to call him a hopeless alcoholic,but they both knew he was on his way if he wasn't there already.He was bad before,but ever since the car bombing that killed Mom and left Dad a virtual vegetable,it had gotten worse,and really,when it came down to it,she couldn't blame him. 

Ryan looked away from her,back out the window,where sunlight spilled over the wide green expanse of lawns, small well tended garden beds,and opulent cherry trees,which had been her mother's favorite.Logan was no longer anywhere to be seen."Maybe we'll fall apart before the Takabes even have a chance to finish us off,"he muttered,in a rare moment of self-reflection. 

"That's not going to happen,"she insisted,even though she knew she was just hoping out loud. 

Finally he turned back to her,looking sober,which was also rare for him."Keep an eye on the gaijin.At least until we know we can trust him." 

"Why me?"She protested. 

"Because I'm sure he can outsmart nearly everyone around here,but not you,"he admitted reluctantly."You'd have to be some kind of  Superman to outsmart you,Mare." 

That was the nicest thing Ryan had ever said to her. 

    2 

Los Angeles-Present Day 

    Bob sat in his office in the back of the Way Station,surfing websites and starting to feel just a little frustrated.By accident he'd discovered a real funny website wherein the kama sutra was completely re-enacted by featureless wooden dolls,but sadly that was not what he was looking for.Still,he bookmarked it so he could come back at a later date. 

He tried to stifle a yawn,and reached for his soda,which he downed in a single gulp-he preferred his caffeine cold as opposed to hot.Coffee smelled good,but it always tasted like industrial grade paint thinner to him,no matter what they added to it to make it more palatable.One drink of coffee and he would swear he could feel his stomach lining just peeling away. 

Bob found something on a Japanese website about Yashida Consolidated (which was acquired in a takeover by a financial group known as Takashi-Ryune in the early '80's,and technically no longer existed),but it seemed to be pure p.r. spin,nothing really honest.But right now he was just trying to confirm suspicions;thanks to his voluminous contacts,he had a lot of info on the bloody gang war that destroyed Yashida Consolidated and the Takabes interwoven nets of businesses.And he wasn't sure how much to tell Logan,and when. 

Gods,this was going to hurt him. 

He'd had more pain than any man had a right to put up with,and Bob really didn't want to make it worse.But he had said he'd try to find something of his past,knowing full well it might be very ugly indeed.Still,he hadn't expected to find so much so soon,and something quite as bloody,nasty,and messy as this. 

But the big question,the one that kept him from getting too much sleep last night,was how much he should tell him about the very ugly death of the woman Bob suspected had been Logan's wife. 

Nasty business.The cruelty of people oftentimes surpassed demons,which should have been surprising but wasn't. Many demons had the excuse that what seemed cruel to people was just a natural function for them,something in their genes-but most people didn't have that excuse,and yet they came up with the most hideous tortures imaginable, things that would give pain demons orgasms of ecstasy.It made him wonder sometimes why he even bothered with people. 

No,he knew;he had humans in his family,and he did not turn his back on family.But sometimes humans could leave him so disillusioned. 

There was a familiar rap on the office door,and before he could say a word,it opened and Helga peeked her head in. "Hey old man,"she said,weariness reflected in her voice and usually sharp jade green eyes.She only knew a few fragments of this story,but even she had an idea how ugly it was. 

"Hey hon.Find something?" 

"Yeah,"she admitted,entering the room and closing the door with her tail.She was dressed conservatively for her- a red tank top that contrasted with her dark green skin and only showed a little bit of her cleavage,low riding,baggy green cargo pants,and open toed sandals-but then she'd been hitting some of her old merc haunts in search of information. 

Anticipating her,he shoved his chair back from his desk,and she came over and carefully straddled him,sitting on his lap but facing him,positioning herself with practiced care so she didn't crush his balls (neither of them would have been terribly happy about that).She rested her forehead against his-she had had a long night too-and he stroked her soft green hair until she was ready to talk."Dickeye said there's a new player in town,"she said quietly,referring to a busybody Rohas demon who saw absolutely nothing wrong with that colorful nickname."Who's taken over the heroin smuggling racket from overseas.All he really knows about the guy is that he has ties to the Yakuza,and everybody believes he's responsible for the death of the old smack lord,who died in a real suspicious fire last month.His huge Bel Air mansion went up in smoke in under an hour,killing him and five other people inside,two of whom haven't been identified yet because there was almost nothing left but a few random bones and teeth.The arson investigators figured some super volatile accelerant had been used to spread the fire so fast,like napalm or rocket fuel,but they never found a trace of chemicals." 

Bob nodded,but carefully so he didn't accidentally headbutt her."So fire woman not only works for a drug kingpin, but can also light things as well as people on fire.Lovely.Do they have names?" 

"He didn't know them-the Yakuza connection's freaked everyone out.But I have a connection down in Chinatown who knows everything there is to know about the players in the Asian drug market,and I'm expecting her to get in touch with me any time now." 

"Great,thanks love." 

After a moment,where she ran her cool hands through his hair and he slid his hands down to the small of her back,she asked,"How does Logan factor into this exactly?" 

"Well,we have two possibilities:this new drug family are connected to the Bloody Friday incident,and have a score to settle,or it's simply a case of someone not wanting the ghosts of the past dug up for some reason." 

"Cover up?Of something even worse than a massacre?"She sighed."I love how nothing is ever simple." 

"Well,it keeps things interesting." 

"Do you think they'll want to bury Logan if they know he's still alive?" 

The million dollar question.The ultimate irony was,if he was indeed the Yashida's Westerner samurai,he had absolutely no memory of it.But would some distant family member with an unreasonable grudge or a desire to see this relegated completely to the graveyard of history care about that?The fact that Logan was still in existence would be considered a threat. 

Would they not learn from their past though?Both the Takabes and the Yashidas had underestimated Logan,and they paid a bloody price for that mistake.Maybe that's why 'firestarter' would play a big role in any move against him- mutant against mutant.In theory,it was a good idea,but they had made no contingency plans for the likes of him and Helga,and Bob knew that,even with drug money and possible Yakuza backing (although it was equally possible it was a rumor spread to back others off),the battle was completely lopsided in their favor.After all,Logan had survived everything they threw at him twenty five years ago,and he and Helga weren't about to be taken down by a bunch of penny ante mobsters.Hell,it'd be surprising if either of them even broke a nail. 

Bob heard the noise of the door knob being turned,the music from the bar's front room swelling louder as the door opened,and they both looked to see Logan look at them,and then instantly start closing the door."That'll teach me to knock,"he muttered. 

"Come back,"Bob said,surprised he'd arrived so quickly.He was way away in Alberta when he called him yesterday. 

"Yeah-if we were fooling around,I'd have locked the door,"Helga pointed out."Tetrass demons like to watch." 

Logan looked at them both from the doorway as if they were insane and ticking him off because of it."That's more than I ever wanted to know,"he said,reluctantly coming back in. 

Helga left his lap and sat on the corner of his desk as Logan tromped in,looking paradoxically tired and wired.There were dark crescents beneath sleepy looking green eyes,his dark hair scruffy and less pointy at the sides than usual (a good thing,as far as he was concerned),and Bob knew part of the reason Logan made such great time was that he skipped sleep altogether.From what he gathered,Logan did that quite a bit-mostly to avoid dreaming/remembering -but Logan also knew damn well he was almost completely invulnerable,and therefore saw nothing wrong with pushing himself over the limit time and time again:he'd always recover.It was absolutely no way to live,but some small part of Logan had a death wish,and he kept groping for it,hoping he'd find the right alchemy that would finally shut down his body's hyperactive survival response.Even Krek's success in doing so had not stopped him from flirting with self-destruction. 

He was dressed as he seemed to be always dressed:worn,distressed brown leather jacket over an open buffalo plaid flannel overshirt and a tight black t-shirt that hinted at the really solid physique beneath;worn,aged blue jeans,loose but with several worn spots a dozen or so threads away from being holes;and brown leather work boots that probably  
had steel in the toes,because Logan seemed to be the type of guy who bought clothes-when he did in fact bother to buy them-for durability more than anything else.Fashion plate he was not,but Logan didn't care much about surface appearance in himself or anyone,and it showed.That proved to Bob Logan was old enough-whether he knew it or not-to know that the surface was often a lie,and a completely unreliable indicator of the person (or whatever) that laid beneath.Bob knew better than anyone you could absolutely never trust your eyes (but then again,he did fuck with people's minds,didn't he?And every smart Belial knew that people really saw with their mind,not their eyes). 

Logan didn't sit in the chair before his desk more than he collapsed back into it,sliding his small pack off his arm and letting it plop to the floor at his feet (plop,not thud-Logan continued to travel light)."Did you get any photos?" Logan asked,not even bothering with foreplay.But he rather liked that about him-as much as Bob enjoyed  the meandering preamble,usually if only to annoy others,there was something refreshing about someone who always wanted to cut to the chase.That's why he loved Helga. 

"I'll check my email,"he said,sliding his chair back up to the desk so he could comfortably access his laptop."Kayley said she'd scan and send any that looked like something I might be looking for." 

"You have email?Oh,I should have guessed." 

"Sexgod at apple dot com,"Helga said,with a playful smirk.Well,hell,that had been her suggestion. 

Logan stared at Bob in disbelief."You're kidding." 

"No,she's not,"he assured him,as he accessed his mail page.Bob was tempted to tell him his password was 'ohmygodlookatthesizeofthat',but even if you were amused by your own jokes,you shouldn't share your passwords and let someone else use them. 

"Mine's brazenhussy,"Helga offered,still grinning.That was true,and her password was 'littledick',because,to quote her,"No man would type that in a billion years".She had a very good point,and he used variations of that as passwords into his highly secured files-they had never been breached.Coincidence? 

Logan actually cracked a rare smile at her."I could have almost guessed that." 

"I bet you could,lover boy,"she said,giving him a flirtatious wink. 

That had been the wrong thing to say.Helga was just teasing-she loved to tease-but Logan glanced down at the floor, looking almost embarrassed.He still felt bad for sleeping with her?What exactly did he have to do to prove he really didn't care that he had?Helga was a big girl,she could make her own decisions for Ganesha's sake.Oh well,just a human societal more' thing. 

Logan had closed the door,but music was still leaking through,as well as Lia's occasional curses at various customers who were trying her admittedly slender patience.Without really being consciously aware of it,Bob started singing under his breath as he waited for his email to load;singing actually helped him think,although almost no one actually believed that."This body holding me reminds me of my own mortality.Embrace this moment. Remember,we are eternal,all this pain is an illusion."Bob then got an idea of what he was singing and shut the hell up.Considering everything he had to tell him,"Parabola" 's lyrics probably sounded inadvertently cruel.After all,did Logan really have a mortality,and did he need to be reminded he was quite possibly,worse case scenario,eternal?He didn't think Logan noticed,and he was glad. 

"It looks like she came through for me,"he said aloud,glad he had something to say and cover up his musical faux pas."I have photos." 

Logan was instantly up from his chair,and came around the desk to have a look,eyes alert and his whole being exuding anxiety,impatience,fear,and desire.He wanted to see the photos,but he was afraid of what he might or might not see,and yet he simply had to see-not looking at them was not an option.Bob's heart went out to him (because he knew the end result,and Logan didn't even know the beginning yet,did he?),and he hoped,if Logan did indeed turn up in these photos (and his wife?Shit,what if his wife was in them too?),it wasn't anything he'd regret seeing; something that would haunt his unquiet dreams.He had enough crap like that shoved in his subconscious. 

The first photos seemed to be security camera stills from an underground garage (?) (did Japan have any of those?),underlit and not sharply focused,so it was impossible to say who exactly they were seeing.It looked like a group of four men,and possibly a woman or just a smaller guy with a questionable haircut,but it was clear there was one non-Asian in the group.But that's all that could really be said."These are shitty,"Logan said,in case Bob had missed that. 

"We could always try and enhance them,"Helga said,and Bob felt the tip of her tail snake under his shirt and tickle his back. 

"Yes,but the resolution's poor,"Bob pointed out."It may not help much at all." 

There were eight photos in all,a time code in the lower left corner showing their progression down the timeline,and it occurred to Bob that Logan had to be the gaijin because he seemed to be deliberately avoiding looking directly at the cameras,no matter where they were and at what angle.That was too good to chalk up to mere paranoia-that was a guy who knew when he was being watched.Bob noticed too that he grabbed the woman's elbow in one of the shots, steering her gently away from looking in the direction of the camera. 

Bob felt his stomach clench in anxiety-it was Logan's wife;he was trying to protect her from the cameras too.Shit. 

"Is that me?"Logan asked dubiously,leaning closer to the screen for a better look. 

"Looks like it,"Helga said,still tracing circles on Bob's back with the tip of her tail. 

"Who are these people?What's going on?"Logan wondered,and he sounded annoyed.With himself probably,because he didn't remember. 

"As far as I know,these people are all connected with Yashida Consolidated,"Bob told him."This might be in their corporate parking garage.Given time I can probably match faces to names,but odds are everyone in the photo is dead.Except you,of course." 

"Who's the woman?"He asked,his voice suddenly pitched lower,as if he was bracing for some terrible blow. 

Luckily,Logan had kept her from looking directly at the camera,so Bob felt comfortable lying."I don't know.I'll have to have a look at the employee files." 

But Logan was just radiating tension like barely suppressed rage,and Bob asked,"Do you recognize her?"The most they could see was a partially obstructed view of the side of her face,revealing a delicate nose and an oval face,her small chin pointed ever so slightly,her stylishly cut hair a sleek pseudo-bob that clung to the contours of her face,her black hair as glossy as a panther's pelt.If she was the woman he thought she was,she was lovely,striking,although not ravishingly gorgeous;she did have the kindest eyes Bob had ever seen.He bet she had been one hell of a dame. 

Logan stared at that fragment of an image,that partial silhouette,for the longest time,as if his life depended on whether or not he recognized that face,that moment in time.He gripped the edge of Bob's desk so hard he was surprised it hadn't shattered in his hands or his claws hadn't sprung out,and he saw small beads of sweat form on Logan' forehead,as if trying to remember was a physical exertion that pushed him to the limit.After what seemed an eternity,he said in a harsh,frustrated whisper,"I don't know." 

*** 

Tokyo,Japan-1978 

    It had been like pulling teeth,but finally Mariko had convinced Logan to let her go to the private,pre-grand opening of  Chiaki's restaurant,Kogane-Chigiri,although she still had to go with a small security team,and only after he had scouted the place (and the few people attending) out.Mister Paranoid. 

To be fair,his somewhat stringent security measures had worked well for the past five months.The Takabes had launched several attempts on the lives of various people in and around Yashida Consolidated,but each was a failure,and they had seemingly backed off to do what Logan called 'regrouping'.There had been a lull from any violence for almost a month. 


	3. Part 3

But it still felt like living in prison sometimes.The measures that protected them from harm were also terribly constricting,and she thought she'd go nuts if she didn't get out.It was worse for Ryan,as Logan told him in no uncertain terms that the 'geisha house' (upscale prostitutes) he liked to visit was off limits,because it was too 'porous' and there was no way to protect him there.Ryan had tried to sneak off,but Logan informed him if he went there and continued to go there,he guaranteed he'd die there.Ryan was grumbling that it was worth it,and Logan wasn't his warden,but still seemed afraid to risk his wrath. 

Kogane-Chigiri was on the fourth floor of Chiaki's family's department store,but due to the remodeling necessary to complete the restaurant it had been closed for the last two weeks.Neither were scheduled to open for the next three days;Chiaki was having a private opening for a few friends and investors,just to 'christen' the place,and save for Chiaki she knew few of the people who would actually be there.Well,as long as you didn't count Logan. 

He seemed less than thrilled about it,but he was acting as her personal escort to the restaurant;he was reluctant to let one of the other security staff do it (he swore it wasn't that he didn't completely trust them,it was just that if you wanted something done right,you did it yourself),and she was even more reluctant to have them come,as they all looked exactly like what they were-hired thugs,with all the social graces,wit,and intelligence of your average table lamp. 

But,much to her surprise-and appearances and first impressions aside-Logan was nothing like that. 

He was nearly an impossible man to get to know in any sense of the word.He kept to himself as much as possible.In fact,they had enough rooms at the mansion that he could have lived inside it,but no,he preferred the guest house out back (he needed his privacy),and he seemed to avoid socializing as much as possible,even when it posed no security risk at all.She wondered if his loner nature was responsible for the lack of records on him,or any paper trail involving the curiously disappearing Logan clan.But her own curiosity about him (the more she tried to dig into his past,the more she came up with absolutely nothing-it seemed impossible,like the violation of some heretofore unknown law of physics.It made her think of that Monty Python sketch:he was a man trying not to be seen.But why?)  
had driven her to try and find out something from him,even if the man himself was reticent to say a word. 

It took a long time,and lots of patience,but it was seeing what he had done to the guest house that opened a window into the sort of man Logan was. 

The guest house-originally set up for visiting relatives that Dad had really not wanted in the house-was crammed full of elegant,Queen Anne style furniture,so it looked like a Victorian era drawing room,and the bedroom and bathroom followed that motif.But one day she decided to pay a visit to the guest house to have an argument with him (she was tired of feeling like a prisoner),and almost didn't recognize it.He had moved out most of the furniture (it was in storage),leaving only a couch,a chair,and a couple of tables;the 'English rose' patterned rug had been rolled up and shoved in a closet,leaving only the bare hardwood floor,and a couple of large floor pillows he used when meditating (he really did meditate).He had added to the now wide open space shelves upon shelves of books,many of them old and she would swear first additions.Most were American/Canadian/English,but several were French, Spanish,Russian,and Japanese-none translated.She found it hard to believe he could read that many languages-and he claimed he didn't-but the books were well used,and inside one of the French books,she found an inscription in French:the only word she could make out was 'Logan'. 

There were no personal mementos aside from the books,and the two ornate swords passed on from Kajahara,which hung sheathed on the wall behind the sofa in a metal sword rack.She'd even peeked into his bedroom (all flounces removed-no surprise there-all furniture gone save for a nightstand,a single arm chair,and a dresser),but there were no photos,no knick knacks,no personal effects of any kind.She'd been eager to look in the drawers,see if he was hiding  
something in there,but there was no way she could explain looking through them if caught.And he would have known:even though she knew she disturbed nothing and left no trace,he knew she had been looking around his 'home'.He didn't like it,but when she started asking about the displaced furniture,she distracted him and made him think that was what she was really after (or so she hoped).He claimed he moved the stuff because he needed space to practice his various martial arts routines,but also because he didn't like 'clutter',and it was always a good idea to have some room to fight,because you never knew when you might need it.Also:"The Victorian era made me sick." 

Yeah,she hadn't been crazy about the decor either;but her father seemed to think that was the height of elegance. 

She tried to talk to him about his family,but that was a lost cause;he evaded and dodged the topic at every turn.  
So she talked about books instead,a safer topic that he seemed to warm up to with little prompting.It turned out he was as well read as he seemed,and she finally found someone she could talk to as an intellectual equal,or close to it at any rate.He had a great knowledge of politics,as much as he openly disdained it and politicians (she could understand why),and he turned out to have a very dark sense of humor.He also liked to bullshit,telling stories about supposedly meeting people as diverse as Jack London ("A mean drunk"),Pablo Picasso ("A real jerk"),Ernest Hemingway ( Logan implied he'd beaten the shit out of him in a Havana bar after he challenged him to a fistfight),T.H.Lawrence ("Really shy and awkward,but not one to back out of a fight"),Jean Paul Satre ("moody,but more fun than you'd think"),and Anna Akhmatova,the Russian poet ("Prettier than most pictures indicate;a real sweetheart").She was unfamiliar with Akhmatova,so he loaned her one of his books,a rare translated volume,and she wasn't sure what shocked her more-the fact that he actually owned a book of poetry (several,in fact,but only Akhmatovas),or the fact that,while flipping through the Russian edition of the book,she found some Russian writing scrawled on one of the pages,and she couldn't read a word of it.But,if she was right,the title of the poem written on was 'You'll Live,But I'll Not...'.It was a dark and strange poem comparing wolves getting shot to 'secret plots of fate' (her guess was it didn't translate well).Mariko's best guess was it was a comment on Russian totalitarianism,as Akhmatova was persecuted by the Soviet government in her later years.Logan said he didn't know what was written there,as he didn't read Russian,and supposedly bought the book used,but she didn't quite believe him.Still,why would he lie?She never saw him reading a Russian book. 

He had thawed somewhat,and seemed to look forward to their little chats;she knew,much to her surprise,that she did. But still she felt she hadn't found out anything about him at all.She didn't know his entire name (his real name?), knew he was born in Canada but not where exactly (or when-he refused to say when his birthday was because he didn't celebrate them),and had no idea what he had done before this.He said he worked several jobs-because he "got bored easily"-but he didn't specify a single one.The only information she had gotten out of him was an admission he'd never gone to college,and he was basically 'nomadic',rarely settling in one place for long (which was not exactly a revelation). 

One thing she had learned-when he talked about Kajahara,or at least how his father had known him (she'd gotten that much out of him at any rate)-it was with a certain wistfulness,as if he genuinely missed the man.But how well could he have known him,especially since he had previously admitted he hadn't seen Japan for years? 

He was a frustrating man who seemed to live to be an enigma,and she found him obscurely fascinating,mainly because she hated puzzles she couldn't solve.What was he hiding?Something kept him on the move;there was something hanging over his head.But she couldn't figure out what,and he certainly wasn't volunteering that information. 

Right now he looked uncomfortable.He'd been relieved he didn't have to dress up-it wasn't that type of restaurant or 'dinner party'-but he couldn't wear his usual t-shirts and jeans combo either.He had to wear nicer jeans and a button down shirt (dark blue-well,at least for once it wasn't black,brown,or dark green:that seemed to be his color palette of choice,musty earth tones),but he still stuck with the biker boots and the black leather jacket that wasn't quite biker but did veer somewhat distressingly towards pervert,although when he got out of the car,she thought she saw the waist length coat shift in a strange way.He was carrying weapons,wasn't he? 

One just assumed he did,but she'd never seen him actually pull one.He said he didn't like guns,so while everyone else on the security staff carried one,he did not.She had no idea what he carried.Maybe he was the weapon:that wouldn't actually surprise her in the least.Obviously he feared nothing,or at least no man;a gun pointed in his face would only make him laugh. 

Now you'd assume he was a psychopath,but he didn't seem that way.He was just supremely confident in his ability to handle anyone and anything thrown his way;it showed in the way he carried himself,like he was relaxed and yet primed to fight at any second.He was a dangerous man,probably far more dangerous than their entire staff of thugs, and yet she wasn't afraid of him.The other goons had a tendency to unnerve her,but she felt strangely comfortable around Logan.Maybe because he wasn't a dumb animal. 

Currently,Logan was trying not to fidget as he sat across from her at the small oval table,one he'd had to settle for.He didn't like the first table because either way one of them would end up with their backs to the door,and the second one would have put their backs to the huge picture window that made up the wall on the right side of the restaurant. It seemed to unnerve Chiaki that he was pointing out the many ways someone could be killed in her new place,but before he could annoy her to the breaking point (and embarrass Mariko further),she found a nice little table,back from the window,which would only show their profiles,and a slight rearrangement of the chairs put one of them with their backs to the kitchen (the other would be back against the far wall).Logan chose the seat that put him back first to the kitchen,and Mariko really wasn't surprised;he acted like a bodyguard much of the time,putting himself in what he perceived to be potential harm's way.What she didn't quite get was if he was dead,how could he protect them? His body wasn't made of metal;he was no human shield.The same bullet that could kill them would kill him too. 

Chiaki was going for an upscale tourist market with this place:the lighting was low and striving for romanticism,the small tables all laid with white linen tablecloths and elegant crystal vases with a single rose in the center,good china and sterling silverware used for the settings as faint,almost generic piano music played softly in the background. 

Logan frowned as he looked around dubiously."I thought we were in Japan." 

She almost kicked him under the table,but restrained the urge at the last second."What do you mean? I thought you'd like a taste of home." 

"Home?"He replied,with the smallest of scoffs."This isn't home.This is pretentious shit for well off bastards who want to have their Big Mac in Tokyo the same as it is in Toledo,goddamn it." 

She felt instantly enraged on Chiaki's behalf,but then she felt a tempering surge of humor.He was absolutely right, and in private Chiaki wouldn't deny it;she was the capitalist poster girl.If there was a market to be exploited,she would find it."Would you prefer sushi?"She wondered. 

"Actually,I would,"he said,continuing to give a cursory look around the room before turning his gaze towards the window.Chiaki had admitted the view was no good,and she was going to do something about it,but she hadn't said what.Logan kept turning his gaze towards that bland knot of buildings across the way,the darkness of the closed shops contrasting with the warm yellow lights of the open stores and businesses.The sky above wasn't night time dark but that curious navy blue color that seemed to refect the lights of a crowded city;light pollution blue. 

"What are you looking for,snipers?"She teased. 

Rather than answer her,he asked,"Is the window polarized or mirrored on the outside?" 

She stared at him,but it took a moment for him to look back at her and notice."What?" 

"I can't believe you're looking for snipers." 

"Things are not safe now,Mariko.The Takabes are going to make a move,and soon.You've probably pissed them off, which means they'll probably be sloppy-or extra vicious,depending on if they get outsiders or not." 

"Do you ever take a break,Logan?Do you ever let your guard down,even for one second?" 

"I'm doing what you hired me to do." 

"That's not what I asked." 

For a long moment he just frowned at her,but there was a sudden and curious sadness in his eyes,warring with the typical anger.He felt like he couldn't ever let his guard down,didn't he?Why?What was he running from? 

She almost asked,but one of  Chiaki's cousins,Namika,a university student playing 'server' tonight,came over to their table and robbed her of her moment.She was almost convinced if she had managed to ask just then,he might have told her. 

Logan,being in the mood he was in,inspired her to order a big bottle of wine;she didn't care so much about the food. 

But while on her second glass of red wine,something suddenly occurred to her as Logan poured himself another glass of  wine."Why don't you ever get drunk?" 

He raised an eyebrow at her,setting the nearly empty bottle beside the vase."I know my limits." 

"I don't buy that,"she instantly replied."It never seems to effect you at all.You seem constantly sober,which is a shame." 

He raised an eyebrow at her again,but this time he was almost smiling."You wanna get me drunk?" 

She shrugged."I think it would be interesting to see what the real you might be like,without the guard." 

There was a darkness that moved behind his eyes,like she had just triggered some sort of additional defensive mechanism."You might not like the real me." 

"I'm willing to risk it." 

He stared at her for a moment,then shook his head and looked away,continuing to scan the room for mystery assailants (what-did he expect ninjas to suddenly spring out from the walls?).There were only five other couples here,most Chiaki's family but barely acquaintances to her,and while they kept up a quiet,steady drone of conversation,their eyes always seemed to scud back to her and-most notably-the gaijin she dared to bring here.From the way Logan's shoulders seemed tight with tension,she knew he knew it,but he felt he couldn't say anything since they were friends of her friends."I'm not,"he muttered,turning his gaze back to the window. 

She had finally talked him into shaving his ubiquitous close cropped beard-at least for tonight-and he looked sort of strange.She had gotten used to him as hirsute,although she thought that would never happen.He looked oddly young without his beard,his normally intense face tempered with a sort of innocence that she couldn't believe he'd ever possessed. 

Back in college,she had decided she was no judge of  Western faces;it was a hideous joke to say all white guys looked alike to her,but they sort of did.If it wasn't for differences in hair and eye color,she'd have been completely lost,and even then she occasionally goofed up.Logan had what she imagined to be an unusual face-was he handsome?She couldn't say.She thought he had nice eyes (for a Caucasian),but that was about the only judgment she could make. 

And,as weird as it sounded,she would swear his stubble had grown back since they had gotten out of the car,but no man's hair grew in that fast...did it? 

She wanted to tell him his big secret was going to come out someday-one way or another-but rather than have that argument,she just had another drink of wine. 

She had the dreadful feeling this was going to be a long evening. 

*** 

    Logan knew something was wrong,but all these people looking at him were throwing him off. 

When Mariko left to go to the bathroom,he looked around the room and glared into submission anyone he caught staring at him.They all looked away,flustered and embarrassed,but the sense of being watched-and the sense of basic wrongness-didn't leave him. 

It didn't help that Mariko was distracting him:she was asking too many question he didn't like,and she looked really nice in that dress.It was a simple black shift that contrasted nicely with her porcelain skin,teamed with a diaphanous black mesh wrap with interwoven silver metallic threads and really impractical high heeled shoes that would probably twist her ankle if they had to move fast. 

Yeah,he was Mister Paranoid. 

But he felt it was always warranted.Even if he wasn't escorting a woman on someone's hit list,he was still a mutant, which damned him to the status of pariah for the rest of his life.His unnatural life. 

He'd lived too damn long and seen too damn much,and yet the face he saw staring back at him in the mirror looked exactly the same as it had seventy five years ago,and he wondered if it would ever change.He looked thirty on the outside,and felt a million years old on the inside,and knew the twain would never meet.Was it ever going to stop? 

Sometimes,at very low points in his life,he had despaired over it.He had even tried to kill himself a couple of times, but his body would never let him succeed.Kill him?That was a good joke.The best he could do was hurt himself and knock himself out for a while,but that was all. 

And all these thoughts were distracting him further-he had to focus,damn it! 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath,centering himself and focusing on all his other senses. 

When he was learning to cope with his mutations,his hyper-acute senses had almost crippled him.He lived in the woods by himself often,because people were too noisy,too noisome,the sensory overload of too many people making him sick,driving him crazy.He eventually learned his own form of meditation,his own way to unconsciously shove it all aside,ignore the excess,but he could bring it all back on by simply letting go,dropping his concentration and letting it flood over him.He let the stimuli wash him away. 

He started to strip away the layers of noise:conversations around him,whispered but as loud as gunshots (a woman was complaining to her husband that this place was a bad investment two tables over;off to his left,one man was complaining about Mariko bringing in some ugly foreigner and ruining the decor as well as her already fragile reputation (which was damn funny-they hated him because he was white?Wait until they found out he was a mutant),while a couple by the door,introduced as Chiaki's parents,were having a quiet but deadly argument over the man's mistress);the canned piano music,loud as the roar of an ocean (and driving him fucking bananas);the clink of glasses and the scrape of silverware against china as loud as car crashes;footsteps downstairs as loud as... 

Footsteps downstairs?The building was supposed to be empty. 

He opened his eyes and pulled out the small two way radio he kept in one of his inside pockets.Trying to hide it in his coat as best he could,he whispered into it,"Tetsuo,check in." 

The guys objected to their duty,but by now they obeyed him, whether they liked him or not-this was not a popularity contest.Tetsuo was the visible man,the one in the car downstairs,but there were two others as well:Ichiro in the back,not as visible as Tetsuo but certainly expected by anyone with a lick of sense;and Kenji on the corner at the end of the block,most likely not expected by anyone.As far as he was concerned,it was not enough men,but with Ryan meeting with his 'directors' (now there's a hit that could take out a lot of Yashidas at once) and the staff stretched to the limit as it was,he couldn't justify having anymore men on this.Especially since he was the one with Mariko, and, as Ryan liked to joke (he thought it was the height of hilarity,showing how humor impaired Ryan was) he counted as at least two men. 

He had given Tetsuo enough time to respond.Depressing the transmission button with his thumb,he said, "Ichiro, check in." 

He waited,and started to strip away all the layers of scent:people-still too many people-their perfumes,colognes,and deodorants warring with the smell of wine and food and roses;meat charring,sizzling in its own fat,mixed with the astringent scent of green tea wafting from the kitchen,along with blood... 

Blood.Cordite. 

"Kenji,check in,"he asked without much hope,as he got to his feet,chair scraping back loudly on the hardwood floor. While the other diners gave him incredibly dirty looks,he said,"Nobody panic,but I suggest you leave now." 

As he crossed the dining room to the kitchen,ignoring the mutterings of the people who obviously thought him to be a rude and uncouth Westerner and didn't take him seriously at all,he heard footsteps pounding up the stairs:a dozen men perhaps,maybe even more. 

There was no usable elevator-they had been powered down and closed up until renovation was complete,and even though he was roughly sure he could get the sealed doors pried open (he wasn't super strong,but his mutation had at least made him stronger than your average human),there'd be people waiting for them downstairs.The only back way out was through the kitchen...and the closer he got to the door,the stronger and more rank the smell of blood became. Blood,shit,death;the smell of food left on the stove just starting to burn. 

Before he even touched the door,he sensed someone just beyond it,making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.He paused long enough to bark at the other diners,who were still murmuring to themselves about what a crude bastard he was,"Get the fuck down now!" 

He sounded angry enough that several instantly complied,slipping under their tables and obviously thinking he was a madman,and he wondered if whoever the Takabes had hired would care about killing innocents-or witnesses, depending on your point of view. 

Mariko had come out of the bathroom then,and looked at him,startled but,to her credit,she just looked shocked.She didn't eye him like a madman."Logan-"she began,but he held a finger to his lips to silence her.He tucked the radio inside his jacket pocket,and after a moment,he shoved the kitchen door open as hard as he could with both hands,and was not surprised by the hard,bone jarring thud of the door slamming into the person who had been standing behind it. 

And that's when the shooting started. 

Logan had wheeled away from the door the second he shoved it,grabbing for Mariko as he sprinted across the room,a fusillade of bullets tearing through the door (and,judging from the sudden,abortive scream,through the man who had been standing before it),whistling past him and through him,the tiny missiles of metal shattering every vase as patrons crouching under tables screamed,their voices nearly lost in the concussive blasts of the sub-machine guns. 

It was against all his natural instincts to run from a fight,but he had no hope of winning this one.They were boxed in,all avenues of escape blocked off by men-many men-with semi-automatic weapons,and Logan had lived long enough to know when he should cut his losses and go.But go where exactly? 

Bullets randomly burst through him,white hot needles of pain that tore his skin and sprayed his blood in a fine red mist,but he was banking on Mariko never noticing in all the chaos. 

It was the continued shattering of glass that gave him an idea of where exactly he was going."Hold on to me!"He shouted to Mariko,all but picking her up as he sprinted for the window,which was peppered with bullet holes but still relatively intact."Don't let go!" 

She looked and smelled terrified,but she hadn't screamed,and she obeyed him,wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his throat for protection as he jumped at the last second,turning to the side so his shoulder burst through the window first. 

Under his weight,momentum,and the constant barrage of bullets,the entire picture window exploded spectacularly, reduced to a rain of deadly slivers that cut him even as he began the four story fall towards the ground. 

He did his best to aim for a dark blur on the rapidly rising street-a parked car was his best guess-and turned in mid-air,so his back was towards the ground and Mariko was completely on top of him,so he could act as a human shock absorber and hopefully not kill her. 

To say the landing was rough was an understatement:the second he impacted he car roof it was like he had actually been hit by a bullet train,all his breath bursting out of his lungs in a single forced exhalation as he felt ribs snap, vertebrae separate and crack,and the back of his head bounced hard off the metal,causing black spots to explode in front of his eyes.It briefly robbed him of vision as his consciousness seemed to slide away,a sliver of pain deep in his head expanding before slowly fading.He didn't completely lose consciousness,but it was a close thing;for a moment, he felt as insubstantial as a pinata after the candy has been completely beaten out of it. 

Skull fracture?Probably,judging from the itchy hot feeling plaguing all of his broken bones and damaged internal organs,the instantaneous healing response feeling not unlike a billion tiny insects,exoskeletons warm from the sun, crawling inside his body,busy mites swarming,teeming,working furiously to patch up the holes in the hive wall before the deluge. 

He dimly saw Mariko looking down at him,but it was through a thin scrim of grey fog."Logan?"He heard her say, from down a long and hollow tunnel.Her dark eyes seemed impossibly wide with shock and fear in the pale moon of her face."Logan?Are you all right?Can you hear me?" 

It took him a moment to remember how to work his vocal cords,and then another moment to make them work."'m okay,"he said,hearing well enough to know he had slurred his words a bit. 

Her brows drew down in concern-she caught the slurring-but then she glanced up at the former window they had just fallen out of.His vision started to clear and some of his bodily control seemed to come back to him,as he moved his hand and shoved himself off the slightly flattened car roof and rolled onto the hood,which was covered with a fine layer of broken glass.Some of it was from the former picture window;the rest was from the remains of the windscreen,which had shattered on impact. 

His body was still furiously healing itself,but he knew he had to move,and now-the gunmen had to be on their way. While he was all but bulletproof,Mariko was not,and he had to get her out of here. 

He wondered why the hell he had agreed to do this-not for the first time,either-but then he remembered the blood debt the Kajaharas owed the Yashidas.No,he was not a Kajahara-not really-and never would be,but he felt in his heart he was;he wished he was.And he knew Akira,had he been alive,would have honored it,so he would pay tribute to the man who had helped him so much by doing this in his name.It was the least he could do. 

"How can you be all right?"Mariko went on,her voice breathless from shock."We just fell four stories." 

He rolled off the hood and onto his feet,broken glass crunching beneath him and opening new cuts on his arms and hands.The grey fog was almost completely gone,and while he had a minor head rush,he was able to stay steady on his feet."Flak jacket,"he said,as it was the only thing he could think to explain it.Not only was it bullshit,it was lame,but he didn't know what else he could say.He held out his hands (no longer cut) and helped her off the car roof to the sidewalk,but she kept staring at him with her wide,almond shaped eyes,and even when he let her go she kept ahold of his biceps,her hands gripping him so tightly he thought maybe she was feeling for bullet holes (luckily,none hit his arms-his shoulder was another story)."Do you own a flak jacket?"She asked in disbelief."And how would that keep you from becoming sidewalk pizza?" 

"I'll explain later,"he said,breaking her grip before grabbing her arm himself and pulling her down the street towards Tetsuo's car.He hoped she'd either forget,or he'd have a brainstorm by then. 

But that was if there'd be a later for her.He smelled the men,heard their shoes scuff on the cement before they emerged from the alley,and shoved Mariko violently away,out into the street."Take cover!"He shouted,as he ran for the men just as they emerged from the dark alleyway. 

He tackled one,burying his shoulder in his midsection and knocking all the wind out of him,but the other three men fired their guns.Still,it was rushed and in close quarters,so they missed,bullets ricocheting off the pavement and punching through parked cars. Logan ignored the acrid scent of fresh cordite and the new assault of the crack of gunshots on his ears,and kicked the nearest man hard in the stomach,doubling him over as he drew his saber from the hidden sheath inside his jacket. 

It wasn't a proper katana,or one that Akira had given him as his 'son',but it was well forged Spanish steel,small enough to comfortably conceal beneath his coat,and as sharp as a surgical scalpel.He could use guns,and had- everything from single shot pistols to full automatic sub-machine guns-but he never liked them,and he had had his fill of them.There was something about a bladed weapon that guns could never compete with.Mainly,they were extremely quiet. 

The saber sliced through the air,chopping the gun from the hand of one of the thugs as he spun into a back heel kick that knocked the gun out of the hand of the fourth man,but the first man had recovered and took aim at Logan- 

-only to have Mariko sneak up behind him and smash one of her shoes into his neck,the stiletto heel puncturing the side of his throat. 

He grabbed his neck and staggered,gagging slightly as he wheeled around to face Mariko,but Logan slashed his saber diagonally down the man's back,not a lethal cut but a completely debilitating one.He was still falling when Logan caught the movement out of the corner of his eye,and he whirled rapidly,slashing the sword around in a high arc, instantly cutting open the faces of the two men charging him. 

They screamed and grabbed their faces,reeling backwards,and he planted a side donkey kick that broke several of the fourth man's ribs on impact,a sound like dead branches snapping under the weight of snow in the winter,and he yelped as he fell back,arms wrapped around his torso.Logan spun into a kick that caught the man solidly on the side of the head,and he went down like a ton of bricks. 

Logan could hear the footsteps of others rapidly approaching,and knew it was now or never if he wanted to get Mariko out in one piece. 


	4. Part 4

Luckily,Mariko was no dummy,and sadly no stranger to violence.She had reached Tetsuo's maroon sedan,but as she opened the driver's side door,she made a noise not unlike a strangled yelp and backed up,hand over her mouth.Even before he got there,he knew what she had seen."Get in the back and stay down until I tell you otherwise,"he ordered, sheathing his saber and grabbing the open driver's side door. 

Tetsuo was laying sprawled across the front seat,most of his brains splattered on the passenger side window,with some residual blood pooled under his ruptured skull on the butterscotch hued vinyl seat.Having absolutely no time for delicacy,Logan shoved the bulky man's body over as far as was necessary and sat in the driver's seat,obscurely glad that no blood had pooled here,and heard the back door slam as soon as Mariko had gotten in.She did duck down,but he heard her say,"I hate my life." 

She had no idea how he seconded that,but still it made him chuckle bitterly as he started the car (the keys,speckled with blood,were still in the ignition) and tore out into the street,tires squealing on the macadam,pulling away from the curb just as the newly arrived gunmen opened fire. 

He swung a completely illegal u-turn in the middle of the street as the men,all in commando black,started shooting in broad arcs at the car.The rear windshield blew inward first,startling a cry from Mariko before he felt bullets zing past his head and punch out the windshield (causing most of it to explode outward as opposed to inward-a small mercy),and the car's back end slewed violently to the left as the right tire exploded,but Logan fought the steering wheel and got the car back under his control,at least for now.As he took the corner he almost lost control of the car and swerved into a Honda coming the other way,but he wrestled it back into his lane,the now mostly bare rim of the  rear right tire scraping pavement and spitting sparks. 

He went as fast as he dared,and asked,"Are you all right? Mariko?" 

In spite of the wind howling through the open windshields,he heard her suck in a ragged breath,and say,"Yeah.I'm having a heart attack,but otherwise I'm fucking peachy." 

"We're gonna have to dump the car-they'll be looking for it,and we're too easy to spot." 

"And then what?" 

He took a hard right into an alley just big enough for the car to pass through,the end of the car fishtailing dangerously and slamming into a garbage can on the left side of the alley entrance,smashing it flat."Then we get you the hell home."They were near the docks-he could smell the brine,the almost fungal kelp and salty fish-and he figured this was a good place to dump the car and start hoofing it.There should be beaucoup crowds to get lost in too,as he was pretty sure the fleet was in this week,and there was nothing like drunken fishermen and sailors to provide distraction. 

He brought the battered car to a skidding halt behind a warehouse (related to fishing,judging from the overwhelming stench coming from it),and killed the engine,pocketing the now useless keys as it had his prints on them (and whether that would matter he had no idea,but better safe than sorry),and after taking a moment to catch his breath (he still ached,there was no doubt about that,but he had no time to sit still and let his healing factor work in peace),he got out of the car,leaving poor Tetsuo behind. 

Mariko was now sitting up in the back seat,but didn't look like she was in a hurry to move,her dark eyes staring blankly ahead at nothing.He opened the back door,and said,"Come on,we have to go now."He knew a delayed shock reaction might be setting in,but that was all the more reason to get the fuck out of here now,while it was still an option. 

She turned to look at him,her neck strangely rigid,and while she looked shocked,ashen and a bit dazed,she also looked a bit pissed off."What about the others at the restaurant?"She wondered. 

He reached in and grabbed her arm,helping her out of the car."I just hope these guys were instructed to kill only us.If they're good mercenaries,they probably won't go extra-curricular."He didn't want to talk about 'green' mercenaries probably panicking at the sight and thought of so many potential witnesses-there was nothing they could do about that anyways. 

Once outside the car,she yanked her arm away from his grasp as he started to pull her down a neighboring alley that, by the sound of it,led to the boardwalk.Even here in the shadows he could see the reflected yellow light of paper lanterns,and heard boisterous singing leaking from some seaside club.He turned back towards her,ready to force the issue and carry her if necessary,but the look on her face was eerie,the echo of lights glittering like stars in the blackness of her eyes."Kill us.They wanted to kill you too." 

It wasn't a question.He only shrugged."I'm on their hit list now,'Riko.I work for you.Good enough."And secretly,he wished them luck-kill him?They would probably have better luck converting the Pope to Scientology. 

"But...you could have killed yourself throwing yourself through that window.What were you thinking?" 

"Of protecting you.That's my job." 

She shook her head slowly,walking towards him in a zombie like,loose limbed fashion.It started to drizzle,the air humid and still enough that he knew there was a storm hovering off the coast,but the lack of an ozone smell suggested it wasn't coming inland tonight.But the change in barometric pressure made his still knitting bones ache."My family. You're supposed to be protecting my family." 

"I am.But you're the best of them."He wasn't sure why he admitted that,but it was the truth.Even a blind man could see that. 

"How did you survive that fall,Logan?"She asked,her voice lowered to a thready whisper.He thought she looked a bit shorter than usual,and noticed she was barefoot.Of course-she probably left her shoes outside the restaurant,one buried in a guy's neck.She was resourceful,he had to give her that. 

"I told you-" 

"Bullshit,"she interrupted,although she didn't sound angry.Now she reached out and touched him,running her hands down his (bullet hole ridden) shirt,and he instantly grabbed her wrists to stop her before she found one of the holes.Luckily it was dark enough here that he didn't think she could see them. 

"What the hell are doing?"He asked,convinced more than ever she was in serious shock. 

"No flak jacket,"she said,looking fearlessly up at his face.She had not tried to pull her hands away."Would you like to tell me another story about how you have the kind you can't feel?" 

He huffed an impatient sigh through his nose,racking his brains for something-anything-plausible to tell her."This is not the place to discuss it.We could have been followed."He knew they weren't,but that wasn't the point.He turned towards the mouth of the adjacent alley,still holding her wrists in hopes of dragging her along,but she violently yanked her hands away.He spun back around on his heels,frustrated to the breaking point.He fucking hurt,three of his security staff were dead,the car was totaled,and he didn't have her in a safe place yet,and they had no fucking time for this."Do you want to die,Mariko?"He snapped,on the verge of just storming off.Hell with this;what the fuck was he thinking anyways?He was no bodyguard!He was just- 

(a rogue agent) 

-a sucker for a sob story and anything having to do with Kajahara.But the Yashidas were dirty-there was no getting around it.And no matter how smart and sincere Mariko was,she wasn't in a powerful enough position in the family to change it for good."Keep this up.Because you know what? I-" 

"I know what you are,"she said,sounding and looking slightly awestruck. 

That stopped him in his tracks,and he suddenly felt very cold all over,as if the drizzle had turned into a downpour of icy rain.She couldn't know;she was fishing,just trying to guess."You have no idea what I am,"he told her honestly, feeling a strange sort of melancholy about it.No one could ever know who and what he really was-it was just that simple.His only safety-and the safety of everyone he ever cared about-was in anonymity and lies. 

"Yes,I think I do,"she replied confidently.She then reached up,grabbing his face between her hands,and kissed him, tentatively but passionately,her hands smoothing back into his hair. 

He automatically responded,even while the logical,rational part of his brain (that small portion) was telling him this was simply a reaction to shock and having all that adrenaline dumped in her system (and his too,for that matter),but he still pulled her close,her small,almost frail body feeling cold pressed against his,and he wanted to keep her warm. 

Oh no he didn't.It was an effort of will to push her away (how long had it been since a woman had touched him like that? Probably since-no,he couldn't think about her now either...),but he did,and made himself say,"This is not the time.We have to go." 

Rather than fight him on it,she nodded,pushing her damp hair back with her hands."Why didn't you tell me?"She asked. 

He turned away,stomach knotting like a fist,and walked up the alley,refusing to look back and see if she was following or not.It didn't matter;he'd call the estate from a pay phone and have them get down here to get Mariko. 

He had a feeling,no matter how this played,he was no longer working for the Yashidas. 

    3 

Los Angeles-Present Day 

    So far they had been able to identify all the men,and all but one of them had died before "Bloody Friday".So far, the claim that he couldn't see enough of the woman's face to make a positive i.d. was holding,and Bob was glad for small favors.Of course,he could push the issue (literally),but he preferred not to push friends if he didn't have to. 

Logan was pacing so much he feared he'd wear ruts in his floor,and he'd been lucky to replace it after the chainsaw incident involving Angel and his 'friends'.He knew he should have gone with the marble flooring instead,but it was so cold on bare feet. 

Helga left to get a beer,and as soon as she was gone,Logan stopped his frustration fueled pacing,and gave him a suspicious glance."There's something you're not telling me,isn't there?" 

Ah fuck."Why would I do that?" 

Logan glowered at him,his dark eyebrows sinking low over his eyes."Bob,do you need a reason to do anything?" 

"Well,for tax purposes,"he replied wryly,giving Logan a grin meant to be reassuring. 

But from the deadly look Logan gave him,he wasn't in a laughing mood.Well,technically he never was,but even less so now."Logan,I'm trying to help you,"he pointed out."I wouldn't hide something from you." 

"Yes you would,"he shot back bitterly.He must have hit his second wind,because the exhaustion appeared to be gone from his face-maybe his healing factor took care of that too,at least as long as the exhaustion was not too extreme."If you think I couldn't handle it.I can handle anything." 

"I know you can,but just because you can doesn't mean you should." 

Logan stalked towards him,head lowered,shoulders raised,looking for all the world like a prowling wolf closing in on its chosen prey."You know who she is,don't you?" 

Bob crossed his arms over his chest and faced Logan straight on.He was giving him a look that could have splattered his brains all over the wall,and if Bob had been Human-or a lesser demon-he probably would have been freaked the hell out by it:an angry Logan looked extremely feral.His face didn't transform like a vampire's or some other mutants,it was just as if all the higher humanity suddenly fled,leaving only the lower human behind.For a seemingly stoic man,his passions certainly swept him away. 

But Bob could honestly kill someone with a look,and had,so it was hard for him to be afraid of or be intimidated by anyone,even Logan on the verge of full berserker mode.In fact,a death stare like that would usually make him laugh, but Logan's glare had so much pain in it it was like the visual equivalent of a raw,open wound.He felt bad for him, but if he showed any of that it would just make Logan go nuclear."I'm still looking into it,Logan,"he said,not in the least bit cowed."You were very good about not leaving a paper trail.You were almost a professional." 

That made Logan pause,and confusion washed over his face,softening his expression."Are you implying something?" 

Bob wondered how much he should say,especially since he had no proof of anything.But Bob had learned long ago that he had very good instincts when it came to people (and other things)."I'm not actually sure,Logan.But I wouldn't be terribly surprised if you learned how to disappear from the professionals." 

He opened his mouth,and then instantly closed it,pondering the implications of what Bob had just said.From the new expression on his face and the remaining tension in his posture,he didn't like this topic at all."Did...did I work for them?Voluntarily?"There was something in his eyes that Bob had never seen before:pure,genuine horror. 

Logan didn't need to specify the 'them'-of course he meant the Organization,who had fucked him over so completely that they were responsible for this entire mess he was in,and the adamantium skeleton he now lugged around inside him;some sort of sub-surface stigmata to guarantee he would never forget the price he paid for his crimes,even if the crime itself fell to the sands of time.But there was no crime worthy of that kind of punishment,and all that Bob had found so far,while somewhat horrific,still fell in the categories of self-defense,and crimes of passion.Logan was never as bad as they tried to make him.He had simply been a man who had lived too long and seen too much (and couldn't Bob sympathize with that). 

Before Bob could admit he didn't know (but he suspected-oh yes,he suspected),the office door opened,flooding the room with the loud sounds of Thursday's "Understanding In A Car Crash",blasting from the jukebox in the main bar,and Helga came in,a can of beer in each hand,and one wrapped in her tail.They had both turned down the drinks,but the fact that Helga brought them anyways meant things had taken a dire turn in the six minutes she was gone.Bob wished he could be surprised,but very little surprised him.Things were never really as bad as they could be; there was always room for more shit. 

Helga kicked the door closed,although the music was loud enough it kept bleeding through the walls,and she handed Bob an oversized can of beer as she offered the one held in her tail to Logan.He scowled at her,possibly for interrupting their conversation,and when he didn't instantly take the beer she thumped the can gently against his chest.His frown deepened,but he took the can. 

"Do I want to know the shit that hit the fan now?"Bob asked her,cracking open his can. 

She shrugged,perching on the edge of his desk,her tail curling carefully to avoid hitting his iBook."Maybe.My contact in Chinatown called me back." 

"Ah.So who's the new smack hack in town?"Bob asked,before taking a bracing swig of beer.If Helga thought he'd need it,he probably did. 

She cradled her own (already open) can of beer in her hands,and brief;y glanced at Logan before looking at him, grimacing ever so slightly.That gave it away to Bob,even before she said a word."The guy's name is Haido Takabe,but people like to call him Scarface." 

"Scarface,"Bob repeated dubiously.At least Dickeye was original. 

"I know.DePalma should sue,"Helga agreed. 

"Takabe,"Logan hissed,as if the name left a bitter taste in his mouth. 

"So,he's got scars on his face?"Bob continued,and suddenly he had a bad feeling about it.How old was the guy?Could he have gotten his scars from...oh dear. 

"One would guess,"she agreed,taking a swig of her beer. 

Logan looked between them,his green eyes bright and sharp,a sudden eagerness making his face look strangely drawn, almost gaunt with hunger.For knowledge...and for revenge?"He's one of them?I thought you said they were wiped out." 

"Most of the main family was,but there were some distant survivors I'm sure."And maybe even some other survivors of the fight itself,Bob thought,and it was his turn to get an awful taste in his mouth. 

Maybe this was personal-or maybe he thought Logan saw something he shouldn't see,and wanted to make sure it didn't get out to the wrong people. 

But Logan couldn't remember.Whatever happened Bloody Friday,Logan was just as clueless as someone who hadn't been there.Yet Takabe couldn't know that. 

If he did,would it matter?Bob had a sneaking suspicion it wouldn't.Drug traffickers weren't known for their sense of fair play.Did he know Logan survived?Well,he must by now,if he hadn't always known. 

And maybe this time,he'd be able to kill him,and not make the same mistake his family did so long ago. 

"Where can we find him?"Logan continued,focusing his harrowing gaze on Helga alone. 

She gave him a bittersweet smile,the corner of her mouth upturning ever so slightly,setting down her empty beer can on a rare clear spot on his desk."Hon,he's a drug lord.Do you think we can just waltz in there and start asking questions?" 

Logan tossed her his unopened can of beer,which she caught easily,and held his arms out to his sides,hands clenching into fists as if he was about to pop his claws.He didn't,but Bob could see blue veins standing out in relief on the surface of his hands,as if he was just a micro-millimeter of pressure away from letting those bad boys out of hiding. 

"No.In fact,I'm counting on resistance."Logan growled,the unholy hunger now shining in his eyes. 

And that's just what Bob was afraid of. 

*** 

Tokyo,Japan-1978 

    Logan was glad he traveled light;he was finished packing up his books in no time,and Kajaharas katanas were wrapped in raw silk and placed back in their protective chest.He just had to throw a few clothes in a pack and he was good to go. 

Last night,on the ride back to the estate,Mariko said nothing,and he was glad.If she started accusing him of being a mutant in front of Benny and Saito,what was he supposed to say?So what-it saved your fucking life? 

True,but somehow inelegant. 

He didn't want to sleep,but his body wasn't going to let him go on without resting a little;healing took its price somewhere,and he would swear it just crashed his metabolism sometimes.It would make him stop if he didn't do it voluntarily.So he laid down,fully dressed,on top of his bed and expected to just nap for an hour or so,but one hour turned out to be seven when he woke up,sunlight oozing around the seams of the rice paper blind,and he knew his goddamn body had betrayed him once more.That happened too much to be surprising,but he still loathed  it. Sometimes he felt like a hitch hiker within his own alien skin,and that if something happened to his conscious mind, something killed it,but there was just enough of the brain stem left to keep the body functioning,it would go without him;a riderless horse,a zombie without a master.He suppressed a small shudder at the very idea- that couldn't really happen,could it? 

He hoped he'd never find out. 

Logan was ravenously hungry too,another side effect of the healing process,but he figured he could grab something at the airport:nothing great,but hell,all he needed was fuel for this machine.And that's exactly what he felt like-a machine.A perpetual motion machine,a slap in the face to all known laws of physics and physicality,and there was absolutely nothing he could about it. 

He was in his bedroom,randomly shoving handfuls of clothes into a sueded leather knapsack,when he heard a knock at his door.He was content to ignore it-a lynch mob would sound more noisy than that-but the banging increased in volume,and he heard Mariko shout from outside,"I know you're in there,Logan-let me in!" 

He sighed,and slung his pack into the armchair as he went to let her in.Technically she could let herself in,as this was the family guest house,but she was striving to be polite,and he had to give her credit for that.And he didn't really want to leave with an ugly scene,but he had a feeling she'd hang around and confront him as soon as he left the house.Best to get it over with indoors,with fewer witnesses. 

He held the door open as she came in,and she didn't look at him save for when he actually opened the door,and she radiated waves of anger,which he expected.He also expected her to wheel towards him as he shut the door,and begin the harangue.She did. 

"Why didn't you tell me,you arrogant son of a bitch?"She snapped,her delicate,usually placid face contorted in rage. 

"Arrogant?"He echoed,chuckling mirthlessly."How am I arrogant,exactly?For saving your ass?"He walked past her and sat on the couch,not letting her tirade stop him from putting his boots back on. 

"For never telling me,"she continued raging,walking around to the front of the sofa so she could face him (well,in theory-he'd have to look up first,wouldn't he?)."I thought we were friends-"he heard her peter off,and then she asked: "Where are your swords?Holy shit,are you leaving?" 

He glanced up at her,pulling on his second boot."Got it in one,Sherlock.You can't fire me,I quit." 

"I wasn't going to fire you,"she shot back,sounding flustered."And you can't quit!We have a contract!" 

"A contract surely null and void in the case of mutant freak-ism." 

She stared at him in open mouthed shock.It was a good act,he had to give her that."Do you really think everyone sees you that way?Or is that how you see yourself?" 

He raised an eyebrow at her,snickering at her attempt at pop psychology."Look,doll,don't expect me to make this easy on you.There's no name you can call me that I haven't heard before,but you're welcome to try." 

She was quiet for a moment,but not nearly long enough."Are you really that much of a bigot?" 

That made him really laugh."Me,a bigot?How do ya figure?" 

"You just assume that all humans are such idiots they'll hate you." 

"It's been my experience that they do." 

"Well,I'm sorry about that,Logan,I truly am.But do you think so little of me you just assumed I'd act the same way?" 

He rolled his eyes and glanced up at her,not quite embarrassed,but almost."No offense intended,Riko.I like you.But I know how this turns out;it always ends up the same way." 

"Is that your mutation?Seeing into the future?" 

"No." 

"Then how do you know how anyone will react?Especially me.I thought you knew me better than that." 

He sighed,finishing lacing up his boots,and told her,"I don't know what I believe anymore,Riko,if that's any comfort." 

"No,it's not.It's a cop out.I like you,Logan,I like you more than I ever thought I would,but I am hurt that you think I'm some sort of stupid asshole who will hate you because you're a mutant." 

"I don't think that about you.I just don't have any hope anymore.Excuse me for my cynicism." 

"But by painting humans with the same broad brush,you're guilty of what you accuse people of doing to you." 

"And you just did it." 

She planted her hands firmly on her hips,and glared at him like a ticked off parochial school nun."Did what?" 

"You said humans,Riko,referring to you and others,but not me.For the record,I am human,just different." 

Her face fell as she realized he was right,all the anger in her expression draining away,replaced by chagrin."I'm sorry.I didn't mean it that way-" 

"Sure you did.'S okay,it doesn't matter."He got up and left the room,more than ready to finish packing.He was angry,of course,but more than anything he was disappointed.Why?Because maybe he did hold Mariko to a higher standard than others?Maybe.But it was clearly unwarranted. 

She followed him into the bedroom,though.He ignored her as best he could,continuing to pack in spite of her."Don't dismiss me like that,Logan.I know you're a human too,damn it-why do you want a reason to hate me?" 

"I don't want anything from you,Riko.It's been real,but hey,you know,shit happens.Good luck with the Takabes." 

"You are not going anywhere,"she insisted,in full stubborn mode."I'm holding you to your contract,damn it." 

"I think Ryan and the others will have something to say about that." 

"I didn't tell them." 

He stopped pawing through his dresser drawer and turned to look at her."Yet?" 

"I'm not going to.If you want to tell them,it's fine,but I don't see how that's any of their business." 

He studied her face for a moment,feeling an unwelcome twinge of affection for her,and asked,"Why are you here, Riko?If you're not here to sling me out on my ass or cuss me out for being a freak,what are you doing here?" 

"Haven't you been paying attention?I'm here to cuss you out for treating me like a ninny,"she said,not without some humor.She then sat down on the end of his unmade bed,primly folding her hands in her lap,and said,"I want to be let into your life,Logan." 

"Stay out,"he told her,not without some regret."People who know me get hurt.More often than not,they get dead.I don't want to see that happen to you." 

Her smile was kind and sad,and unshed tears glistened in her eyes."People around me already get dead.It looks like we already have something in common." 

Ah shit.He didn't know why,but Mariko had gotten under his skin.Women generally did;they were his weakness.He could remember Hawk telling him "You know,it'll be a woman who finally kills you,one way or another."And Logan figured that was true,but what was he going to do about it? 

He sat down on the edge of the bed,not next to her but within arm's reach,and faced away,staring out the tiny window next to the dresser.He had rolled up the blind to let the sun in,and outside he could see the lowering branches of the cherry tree beyond waving slightly in the breeze,casting erratic shadows on the hardwood floor that seemed to undulate like the surface of the sea."There's so much pain in the world,"he finally said,his voice lowered to a whisper."It's not fair,but there it is." 

"What is your mutation?Are you indestructible?"She asked solemnly,quietly. 

"No,I can be hurt.I'm hurt a lot.I just heal really fast,almost instantly." 

"So you were shot last night;you were hurt." 

Damn,she noticed."Yeah,but it didn't last long." 

"Is that your only mutation?" 

What was this,twenty questions?He wondered if he should tell her,then he decided he had nothing further to lose."I have enhanced senses." 

"I knew it,"she said triumphantly,and when he looked at her over his shoulder,she was smiling."That's how you know so much:you listen to conversations in other rooms." 

He smirked at her."I usually don't have to bother." 

She held his gaze,both curious and fascinated.But it didn't seem like a freak show fascination-she just wanted to know."All your senses are enhanced?Is that how you know when people are watching you?And when they've been in a room before you?" 

He couldn't help but smile back at her.He wasn't as sneaky as he thought,was he?Or maybe she was just very observant."You noticed?So you're the one watching me all the time." 

It looked like she was thinking about denying it,but her lips twisted into a comically guilty smile,her hazel eyes bright with mischievousness,and she edged closer to him on the bed,the mattress barely shifting under her negligible weight. "You're hard not to watch." 

"Is that right?"She was as attracted to him as he was to her,in spite of being a mutant?Good deal. 

"You know it,you big tease,"she accused playfully,leaning closer."So,are you finally going to kiss me,or do I have to tackle you again?" 

He almost laughed.God,she could be pretty audacious sometimes.Maybe that's why he liked her so much."You're the boss,"he replied,finally giving her the kiss he thought she deserved. 

In the back of his mind,he knew this was wrong,and in the end they'd probably both end up paying for it if he didn't get up and leave right now.But honestly,he didn't want to leave anymore. 

** 

    Izumo Takabe waited for the excuse,or perhaps even the punchline,but Dayu simply stood before his table,hands clasped before him,head hanging down,and said nothing.He looked like a prisoner humbly waiting  for the executioner's axe to make its final swing. 

It was a beautiful day,bright,sunny,the sky a flawless azure,and it promised to be unseasonable warm later on,so Izumo,patriarch of the Takabe crime family (although he preferred the innocuous term 'businessman'),had moved what business he could outside,to his balcony overlooking the bay.The water was the deep blue-black of an old bruise, constantly disturbed by the uneven winds and the movements of all the boats,from crude to grand. 

They were high enough up that even if someone could hear over the traffic and harbor noises,all they'd hear would be fragments,syllables disconnected from one another by sheer volume and distance.And also there was his security, keeping a perimeter tighter than the lock on a miser's purse. 

Dayu,his son,was the purported head of the security contingent,but last night's debacle had him questioning whether the idiot could even lead an expedition to find his own asshole with a flashlight and a map. 

"How do you fire almost a hundred rounds and never hit your targets?"Izumo asked calmly.The umbrella built into the little white patio table protected him from the blindingly bright sunlight overhead,and left Dayu alone in its spotlight like glare. 

"I swear,sir,we did hit one.It simply had no effect on him,"Dayu claimed,his voice low but tight,as if he was restraining himself from an angry outburst.He probably was,because he wasn't quite that stupid."No more than jumping out a four story window and landing on a hatchback did." 

Izumo glanced down at some of the surveillance photos,which were so blurred and dark as to be useless,and pondered that.It might explain why that ugly gaijin was so damn good."Has he been seen in direct sunlight?" 

Dayu did risk glancing up at him again,clearly startled."What?" 

"I don't mean in the shade,or indoors,or in a car.I mean exposed to sunlight,directly in its path." 

Dayu thought about it,clearly thinking his old man had finally gone insane.But he'd never be that lucky."I think so. Why?You're not saying he's a vampire,are you?" 

"It was a possibility." 

"Why would a vampire work for humans?" 

Izumo shrugged,quietly amazed at the boy's continued stupidity."Even they will sometimes respond to money,fool.So he's not a vampire-he is clearly inhuman." 

"So we can't kill him?" 

Izumo shot an acrid look at the boy,scowling deeply.He must have taken after his mother,because he could never be that stupid."Even the inhuman can be killed.It's simply a question of finding out how.What we need to do is determine the type of  beast he is." 

"And we would do that how?" 

"There are specialists in this matter,people who study the inhuman all their lives,"he replied,settling back in his chair,which creaked slightly under his weight.He thought he had just the person in mind for the job too.Watchers liked to think they were incorruptible,but if there was one thing he had learned,it was that everyone had their price. And if they had a price too dear,well,they always had a breaking point,a weakness to be exploited,and that was his personal field of expertise. 

So the Yashidas wised up and got an inhuman to work for them?Fine. 

Two could play that game. 

    4 

Los Angeles-Present Day 

    It was the singing that was driving him bananas. 


	5. Part 5

It was bad enough when Bob did it by himself,but he had a Pixies tape in,and Helga,sitting beside Bob in the front seat,was singing female parts of the songs,and joining Bob in the choruses.It wasn't that Helga had a bad voice-no,she could hold her own with the quasi-operatic Bob-it was just that this wasn't a day trip to the zoo.They were supposed to be going off to kick major ass here,and not the Von Trapps' asses either. 

Logan slumped in the backseat of Bob's old GTO,impatient enough to start tearing up the blue leather interior with his claws if only it would get them to shut up. 

"There's a wait so long,"Bob and Helga crowed,sounding delirious."You'll never wait so long.Here comes your man."Bob glanced in the rearview mirror,and said,"Come on,Logan,join us." 

Logan didn't respond verbally,he simply glared at the reflection of his nuclear blue eyes in the mirror,and Bob chuckled. 

"Oh gods,Hel,I think he's going to kill us." 

"Lighten up,sweetheart,"Helga replied,her tail snaking around the side of the seat and poking him on the knee. "You'll give yourself an ulcer if you're battle primed all the time." 

"I don't get ulcers,"he snapped,shifting his leg so it was out of reach of her tail."I don't get sick at all." 

"I meant a psychic ulcer,Chuckles,"she replied coolly,withdrawing her tail. 

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" 

"It means you can kill yourself from the inside out,"Bob replied,then said to Helga,in an aside not nearly low enough,"I think he's been doin' that for a long time,love." 

"Hey,I heard that,"Logan snapped."And I have not." 

"Oh,sure you do," he replied,with a deceptive cheerfulness."It seems to be your hobby." 

"You're pushin' it Bob." 

"That's his hobby,"Helga pointed out. 

Bob chuckled knowingly,and admitted,"You know me too well,love." 

Logan felt like getting out of the car at the next stoplight and walking,but he supposed he should be more grateful, and besides,he might need Bob and Helga's help,whether he wanted to admit it or not. 

As soon as Helga had a name,Bob made a phone call and found out all there was to know about Haido Takabe.He supposed he'd have been more surprised if Bob had to make two phone calls-if Bob didn't know it,Bob knew where to get it. 

Takabe had two places:a luxury condo bordering Echo Park,and a home on the beach in Malibu.They were hitting the place on Echo Park first,because it was closest,but Bob had warned they might be in for a big fight,as the entire condo was owned by a business called Suzuki Matsumoto Limited.Bob said it was a front company,possibly for the Yakuza,or just for whatever business the remaining Takabes had managed to scrounge together.Bob thought Takabe might have the entire condominium to himself...or whatever his name actually was. 

It seems Bob couldn't find any records for a Haido Takabe.He had his 'people' (it seems everyone he could catch was potentially one of his people-that whole thing with Reddick proved that) still searching.but Bob was pretty sure it was a pseudonym,possibly to avoid coming up on the DEA's most wanted list during a routine computer records check.He had to be a Takabe of some sort though,as it was the only thing that made sense. 

Bob had weapons;Bob had more weapons than the local military base.Weapons dealing was either a sideline of his or Helga's,Logan wasn't sure which(but they claimed they were only demon killing weapons.Sure...).But Bob refused to bring any (Helga was packing her usual weapon;he could smell the gun oil).He thought they-no,strike that:he thought he could handle Takabe's army,no matter the size.Logan was inclined to believe him,but he was counting on no demons being there,or at least ones he couldn't push.What if he was wrong? 

Well,that's why he and Helga were there. 

And then there was the mutant woman who started fires.They'd found bupkis on her,but no great surprise there: mutants tried to stay as anonymous as possible,so when they started burning people to death in discos,the cops didn't know where to start looking.Or similar things. 

Bob didn't take them directly there;he parked on the far southwest side of the park,so they could see the big ivory tower of Takabe's condo unit,but the willows and dogwoods of the park would obstruct his view of them.If his security force bothered to look for them:who looked for the commando team about to stomp your asses to hummus coming in on foot through the park on a nice day,in broad daylight? 

As they trudged along the shaded path,passed by rollerbladers and the occasional jogger locked away in their own worlds behind headphones,they were often subjected to double takes,but Logan noticed he was getting most of the stares.No one seemed to notice that,not only was Helga all green,but she also had a tail. 

"What the hell gives?"He grumbled,giving the next rollerblader who stared at him a look that promised he would rip their liver out if they kept it up.The guy looked away real fast. 

"Your hair boggles the mind,"Helga said,smiling at her own joke.Oh,a green haired woman should talk. 

"Helga can be assumed to be an extra in a scifi or fantasy movie or t.v. show,"Bob explained,slipping his sunglasses on."But there is no excuse for a guy wearing a flannel shirt and a leather jacket on an eighty degree day,mate." 

"I still say it's the hair,"Helga argued,slipping on her own pair of mirrored sunglasses. 

"Very funny."Logan looked around,scowling at everyone he caught looking at him.He felt like there were eyes upon him,but he couldn't tell if it was all these gawkers in the park or someone by the condos. 

They came around to the front of the building,over a rolling,well manicured green lawn that stank of chemicals- mainly chemical fertilizer and herbicides,so rank to his nose they made his stomach churn-and encountered no resistance,or people,as they walked up the cement path that led to the metal,foam core security door that acted as an entrance.Some entrance. 

Logan felt the security camera even though he couldn't see it,but he was not the only one.Bob glanced up at the high right hand corner of the recessed entryway,and said,"You see nothing." 

"Somebody there?"He wondered. 

Bob shrugged."Don't know if they're there right now,but you can never be too careful." 

True enough. 

This was high tech security:you needed a Magcard to enter,and probably a code,input into the Magcard 'keyboard' to the right of the metal door.After looking at it a second,Bob turned to him and asked,"Wanna do the honors here, Logan?" 

"Sure."He popped a single claw on his right hand,the one just below his index finger,and wedged the sharp tip in the tiny space where the door met the frame.He dragged it down,slicing metal,wires,everything holding the door shut, hearing metal scrape and hit the floor inside,seeing the small bright pops of sparks in the gap,and then,just for the hell of it,as soon as he was done with the door he popped all his claws and slashed the Magcard panel.There was a brief,pathetic cough of sparks before the panel fell in several pieces to the cement walk below. 

"Can't stand technology?"Helga asked,giving him an amused smile as she walked past him,opening up the newly unlocked door. 

"It gives you a false sense of security,"he replied,waiting for Bob to go inside before he followed him. 

They found themselves in a large,wide lobby,all done up in dark red and gold,with faux marble pillars in the corner to give it...elegance?Well,no,it didn't,it made it look like some tacky Roman themed whorehouse/casino in Vegas,but Logan figured that must have been the intent.It was cool,an air conditioner somewhere going full blast,making red velvet draperies sway in the air currents like fallen flags. 

There were no stairs,only elevators,and Bob,still ahead of the curve,loudly pronounced,"No one's here.There's nothing wrong with the door." 

He really was the guy to break into places with.He could make people disappear without doing more than simply pointing it out. 

But maybe Bob wasn't fast enough,or there was a camera he didn't hit.Logan sensed the rumbling beneath his feet, heard remarkably quiet gears grind,and from the way both Helga and Bob looked at him,they were finally getting it too. 

Even before the elevator dinged,and the door slid open,revealing five men armed with AK-47's,aimed right at them. 

Oh yeah,this was a hell of a way to spend an afternoon. 

*** 

Tokyo-1979 

    Mariko woke up slowly,feeling an arm snake around her waist as warm breath caressed the back of her neck. 

"Don't tell me it's time to get up,"she groaned,not even bothering to open her eyes.All she wanted to do was keep on sleeping.Her mind felt fuzzy with it,as if she was semi-conscious at best. 

"Sorry darlin',"Logan said,sounding tired himself."But we gotta go out in the real world or somethin'."He pressed up against her,and she leaned back into his warm,solid body,sliding her arm over his. 

"Damn it,"she grumbled,wanting nothing more than to put a pillow over her head and hide from the daylight.The family wouldn't fall apart if she wasn't around for one day,would it? 

Well,maybe not.But there'd be no family left if Logan missed a day.Shit. 

She let her fingertips slide gently over the back of his hands,over knuckles and down to his fingers,once again marveling at how soft his skin was,especially for a man.And it wasn't like there was much else on Logan that was soft;he might as well be carved from marble just like the statue she once compared him to.It took her a long time to figure it out,and when she finally did,she felt like a complete idiot-his skin was soft because it was new.It was always new.It wouldn't allow him to form calluses,nonetheless scars.He didn't shed dead skin cells either,because he never had any:even his skin didn't die.It was constantly replenishing itself,repairing itself,but without stray surface cells dying off.She didn't know how that could be,but it was.And if she thought about it too hard,it did give her a minor case of the creeps. 

But she also realized somewhere inside him might be the key to human immortality,or something very close to it.She hoped no one ever figured that out,because she shuddered to think what people would do to him if they did. 

It was funny,in a bleak sort of way,her worrying about him.No one could take care of themselves as well as Logan could.But he did hurt,as he said,and she could still remember him coming back from that failed assassination attempt on Ryan last month.Ryan wasn't hurt,and supposedly Logan wasn't either,but behind closed doors he peeled off a shirt sodden with blood,and several metal objects fell to the floor-bullets.He'd been shot five times and admitted he barely remained conscious.He looked pale and as weak as Logan could look,even though the wounds had healed over already.He said he needed a bit of time before his blood replenished itself but he'd be all right,then sat down with a glass of whiskey ("Fluid levels.") and promptly fell or possibly collapsed into a sleep that looked like death.He even had an explanation for that:"Sometimes,when whatever controls the healing process needs a kick start,I just sort of shut down.It's like death,I suppose,but it's not.I always wake up."He then gave her that smirk of his,the one he always gave before he said or did something he knew was wrong,and said,"A coward dies a thousand times,a brave man only once." 

She stared at him in disbelief."You're no coward,Logan." 

He shrugged,that smirk that she sometimes wanted to rip off with her fingernails still on his face."Maybe I was in a past life;maybe this is payback.I hear karma's a real bitch." 

She didn't find that funny,and somehow doubted he did too. 

He continued to nuzzle the back of her neck,which she really liked,and she wasn't sure if she could credit his mutant super senses for him knowing that,or simply his ability to be observant.He was a very passionate man,which was fun, although occasionally tiring.And she couldn't believe that the family hadn't figured it out that they had had a more than business relationship for over a year now. 

Well,to be fair,they kept it under wraps.Around the family,and during 'working time',they were all business,as she knew the family would go absolutely ballistic if they knew she had a gaijin lover,nonetheless Logan.If anyone ever paid much attention,maybe they'd notice that sometimes the looks they exchanged were a bit more than friendly,or sometimes,leaving a room,his fingertips would very gently brush hers,and it was all she could do not to shiver. 

Perhaps the fact that it was clandestine made it more exciting. 

But she loved him rather hopelessly,and the worst part was she knew she shouldn't.She knew there could only be trouble in a relationship like this-look how "Romeo and Juliet" ended-but logic and emotions rarely got along.She knew he loved her too;he didn't even need to say it.He let her into his life-that was proof enough. 

And what a sad and troubled life it had been.He left huge gaps,and he didn't say how old he was,but he did admit Akira Kajahara had taken him under his wing,not his father or grandfather.He didn't specify,he just said he ended up in Japan "sorta by accident",and was "half out" of his mind when Kajahara found him and saved him from himself.Kajahara felt Logan had the potential to be a great samurai,the best that had ever been,but he himself was not sure he ever lived up to the "old man's" expectations (he referred to Kajahara fondly,and she suspected he had become a father figure for him).He claimed to have no memories of his real parents,or when he was born,month or day.In fact,he frowned deeply when she asked,and looked almost indescribably sad."If I try to think of my parents," he admitted reluctantly."I just get a sense...of fear,pain...death.I think something awful happened to them,Riko,and I think it's my fault somehow."He then tried to smile,and failed."I told you I was poison." 

He still held many secrets,and she knew he'd tell them to her in his own time.He wasn't used to letting people in. Keeping them at arm's length was for their own protection as well as his own,or at least that's what Logan seemed to believe at any rate.But he was starting to thaw,at least for her,and that felt good. 

She had spent enough nights at the guest house talking to Logan,playing chess,and debating books before they became lovers that no one thought it was funny that she continued this behavior.They might have if they knew she snuck out almost every night,and snuck back to the house early in the morning (or,conversely,waited for him to leave and get in the house before she left-he provided cover,in a way),but honestly,as long as she was available for ideas and solutions they'd never give her credit for,the family didn't care much what she did,as long as it didn't 'shame' them in some way.Of course,being with Logan was 'shameful',in their limited definition of it,but fuck them.For one time in her life she could honestly say she was happy,and she didn't care if they liked it or not. 

"Why don't you go,"she murmured,settling her head deep into her pillow."I'll get there after you." 

He continued to nuzzle her neck,gently moving aside her now shoulder length hair,and asked quietly,"Do you ever get tired of sneaking around?" 

"All the time.But what can we do?You know what would happen if we came out about it.You're fired on the spot, and I wake up in a monastery somewhere in Tibet." 

"Marry me.That way,when we throw it in their face,it's all nice and legal.And 'honorable'." 

"Are you serious?"She replied,then opened her eyes and did her best to look at him over her shoulder in the grey half light of early morning."Are you actually proposing to me in bed?" 

He shrugged."We spend most of our time here." 

"True."She rested her head back down on the pillow,and considered it,biting her lower lip to stifle the sudden urge to giggle.Why did she want to laugh? 

Because it seemed funny.Because her father and Ryan and Uncle Hachiro would absolutely hit the roof,and it would serve them goddamn right.Because she loved Logan enough to risk it. 

"Do you love me?"She asked. 

"Forever,"he replied,without hesitation. 

From someone else,she would have dismissed it as a man simply telling a woman what she wanted to hear.But Logan,while a man of secrets,was not one of artifice:he generally told people what they didn't want to hear. 

She entwined her fingers in his,and said,"Let's do it.Yes,Logan,I will marry you." 

It was possible some major shit would hit the fan because she married a foreigner,but she really didn't care.It wasn't like they knew she was marrying a mutant. 

If they ever found out he was a mutant,they'd probably kill them both. 

** 

    The shop was called Bettenchi ('Another World'),and located in the heart of the Akihabara district,usually referred to as 'Electric Town' due to the sheer quantity of neon lights and electric signs on display,so bright and garish on every shop front Dayu was sure it could be seen from space.There were also numerous electronics stores here,but hey,this was downtown Tokyo-where weren't there electronic stores? 

It was early enough in the morning that the streets and sidewalks were as quiet as they'd ever get-the morning commute didn't begin in earnest for at least another hour-and almost all the neon was off,save for a few stragglers, the most obnoxious of which was a large red neon Coca-Cola sign that took up half a building,the red wave constantly surging and ebbing in a way that would make you seasick if you watched it too long,throwing blood red shadows on half the block.In the soft blue light of a new day,it seemed obscene. 

Bettenchi did not go for those type of garish electronic displays,but it didn't have to;the pyramid of small televisions in the front display window,all dark for once but usually showing cartoons,was enough to bring customers in,if the life sized cardboard cut out of some anime girl with round,fist size eyes,impossibly long legs,and a skirt so short it was more of a suggestion of cloth than an actual piece of clothing,didn't bring in the prurient. 

It was a manga shop,selling comics and videos mostly to adults;sure there was stuff for the kids,but in less than an hour the shop would be open and it would be enjoying one of its peak times-when businessmen on their way to or from the subway would stop in to buy one of the many hard core pornographic comic novels that made up at least half of Bettenchi's stock.Nothing like reading a little cartoon rape/snuff on the train. 

Dayu had missed that cultural boat.He didn't understand why you would look at porno cartoons when the live action stuff was so much better.Perhaps that was his Western education showing,the 'cultural pollution' that his father had worried could make him 'soft'.Soft his ass.He couldn't wait until he had an opportunity to show him how 'soft' he was. 

Since the store was not yet open,Dayu had to knock on the glass front door.Looking over the 'Closed' sign,he could see moment in the aisles made up of display racks of comics and videos,and heard vaguely,through the muffling layers of glass,"We're closed.Come back in thirty-" 

The young,bespeckled man at the end of the aisle stopped as soon as he saw who was standing outside the door.He frowned sourly,and with great reluctance came to the door to let him in. 

The young man was Kenji 'Ken' Asari,Japanese by birth (but only half by blood) yet raised alternately in France and England by well off parents,so he spoke Japanese with a sometimes comical accent that was half-European and half-Cockney.He was an astute businessman who also owned manga shops in Osaka and Kyoto,and was very close to becoming a millionaire,thanks mainly to savvy investing.But he was also,on the side,something called a 'Watcher', and reported back to some secret council in England about demon activity in Japan.He also occasionally slew demons,but where he found the time was a bit of a poser,at least to Dayu. 

He was very reluctantly working for them,and Dayu didn't completely trust him.His father was blackmailing him over the fact that his sister,Keiko,was a vampire.Kenji could have killed her but didn't,and she promised to leave Japan and never bother him in any way again.If the Council discovered this he would be kicked out,because a vampire was a vampire,former family or not,but Kenji had a weak spot for his younger sister and refused to kill her again.He never even informed the Council that she had become a vampire. 

Which was good news for them,as it made him easy to manipulate,since he still wanted to be a Watcher.But why?It wasn't like they paid him or anything. 

Asari held the door open for him as Dayu came in,then closed and locked the door behind him."You people never give up,do you?"He sighed,speaking English with a slightly upper crust British accent. 

"We only want information,"Dayu pointed out."I thought you Watchers liked watching." 

Asari gave him a dirty look as he walked past him,back down to the aisle where he was stocking new comics in a display rack.Asari looked very young,his face round and with a Western sort of softness around the eyes,but he was actually in his mid thirties,and far more sophisticated than his scruffy jeans,sweatshirt,and tennis shoe clad appearance would indicate."Not people,no." 

"So he's a person,is he?"Dayu walked down the aisle,slowly following him,but Asari seemed to pay no mind to him at all.He simply knelt down beside the rack and started loading in books,pulling them out from a cardboard box on the floor beside him. 

"As far as I can tell,yes.He doesn't appear to be any type of demon I'm familiar with.He may be a half-breed,or perhaps a mutant."He was filling up a rack with brightly colored books showing women in tight suits and extraordinary cleavage shooting lasers at big,slobbering tentacled things.So a scifi manga as opposed to a snuff one. 

"A what?" 

"A mutant human,one with a strange variable in his DNA.I believe some American scientists refer to it as an X factor.I know the official position of the Japanese establishment is mutants don't exist,and if they do it's only in backward parts of the world where one would expect these sort of things to happen,but it's a worldwide phenomenon,and it appears to be growing exponentially."He straightened his black plastic framed glasses on his face as he looked up at him,warming to the topic."The Council has two prevalent theories on why.The first is it's an unexpected byproduct of the industrial revolution,with the increase of mutagenic compounds in the environment,or possibly a natural,selective response to the increase in the demon population.Humans evolve to take on demons in their own terms.I must admit that theory fascinates me-" 

"I could really give a fuck,"Dayu snapped impatiently.He didn't come here for a lame brained lecture from a snobbish smut purveyor.Asari scowled at him,possibly for saying a bad word.So he was a hypocrite too?"How is he a mutant exactly?" 

Asari shrugged as he turned back to his stacking,but it was a shrug that seemed dismissive more than anything else."I suppose you've witnessed it yourself.He seems to be almost indestructible,at least by bullets and blunt trauma." 

"If it breathes it can die." 

That seemed to make Asari's spine stiffen."Not always.And even things that don't breathe can still die." 

Dayu really didn't care."What,you didn't find any medical records on him or anything?" 

He went back to stocking comics,his shoulders slumping slightly as he relaxed."As a matter of fact,Mr. Takabe,I found no records on him at all,even using Council resources.Mr. Logan technically does not exist,nor has he ever existed.He is a cipher." 

"How is that possible?He does exist.There has to be at least a birth certificate,something-" 

"I assure you,there is nothing,"he interrupted impatiently."Even if the Logan name is a pseudonym-which I believe may be the case-there is no one matching his description anywhere.It's quite possible he's lived his entire life underground,trying to avoid the stigma that the mutant label often brings with it.It is also equally possible that he is much older than he appears to be,or can alter his appearance to some degree.Without knowing the specifics of his mutation I can't say for sure." 

"How can you learn the specifics of his mutation?" 

"Ask him,but I don't think he'd tell me.I think the blackmail has come to an end,Mr. Takabe.I don't see how I could be of further use to you." 

Dayu frowned down at the back of his head,and was seized with the sudden urge to kick him,but there was no point, was there?He pulled his handgun out of his coat pocket,the silencer already attached. 

Asari looked up,and he looked disappointed more than surprised."Ah,I thought it might end this way." 

Only then did Dayu realize that Asari was reaching into the box with his right hand,and he bet he wasn't going for another comic book. 

He pulled the trigger just as Asari whipped out his own gun.The top of the Watcher's head seemed to explode, fragments of brain and bone splattering all over the display racks as he fell backwards,crushing the box beneath his spasmodically twitching body,the gun falling limply from his hand. 

If only Logan was this easy to kill. 

    5 

    Los Angeles-Present Day 

    Logan reflexively stepped in front of Helga and popped his claws,ready to do a semi-suicidal charge towards the gunmen,but before the elevator doors had opened all the way,even as their fingers tensed on the triggers,Bob said,"I   think we're done here,boys." 

The men-all Japanese,all muscular in that steroided,weight lifter sort of way;muscles that had little or no connection to the real world-seemed to freeze momentarily,then shared confused looks."Who's the leader of your little group?" Bob asked,sauntering casually towards the elevator.Logan retracted his claws and followed,partially out of curiosity. He knew what Bob could do,yet it was always a bit stunning to see it in action.He seemed to do nothing, and yet everything changed;it was like reality tilted slightly to the left whenever Bob was around. 

"I am,"the man in the middle said.He was the biggest of the gunmen by six inches,and while they all wore white Arrow shirts and dark ties with matching sport coats,the leader wore a black tie and a dark blue jacket,as if he figured 'close enough'. 

"Your name is..?" 

"Gary." 

"Okay,Gary,who's the big boss man?" 

"Mister Takabe." 

"Is he here?" 

"No." 

"Where is he?" 

"I don't know.I wasn't informed." 

"Shit,"Logan muttered under his breath.They would probably go on to Malibu,but they had no guarantee he'd be there either. 

"Takabe has a young woman working for him,half Japanese,possibly a mutant.Do you know her name?"Bob continued smoothly,as if he was having a friendly conversation with this man,and not an extremely one sided one with a man who was locked in the grip of a psychic full Nelson. 

"Emma Nagal,but he usually calls her 'Hellion'." 

"I guess 'Arsonia' was too gauche,"Helga commented wryly."And...oh,what's the name of that bug that farts fire?" 

Logan tried not to,but he couldn't help laughing.Even Bob cracked a smile. 

"You don't know where she is,do you?"Bob wondered. 

Gary shook his head."I never know where she is,unless she's here.She comes and goes as she pleases." 

"Yeah,I bet she does,"Helga said."Nobody likes sittin' around with a stick of dynamite that can go off at any time." 

"All right.You know what Gary?This never happened.You and your boys are going to go upstairs,drink,play cards, and make several prank phone calls to the police.You will not be surprised when they show up,and you will offer no resistance.Go on." 

Gary lowered his weapon so he could reach over and hit the right elevator button,and the doors began to slowly close,  
taking the men back upstairs. 

"You really are evil,you know that?"Helga told Bob,giving him a pat on the back. 

"Can't help it,"he replied."Demon,you know?" 

"So,Malibu?"Logan prompted,as Helga slid her arm around Bob's shoulders,and snaked her tail around his waist. For some reason their displays of affection made him feel not only uncomfortable but wistful.No one ever loved him quite like that. 

(Yes,someone had.) 

And that thought,unwelcome and strangely transient,made him feel even worse.Both sick and furious at the same time. 

Bob shrugged expansively with his hands."Why the fuck not?The beach is pretty at this time of day anyways.I'll call the cops myself,see if they can dig up some records on Emma Nagal." 

"You know somebody on the force?"Logan asked,leading the way out the doors. 

He looked back over his shoulder,and Bob gave him a broad,shit eating grin."No,not at all." 

Logan realized,in retrospect,he probably should have guessed. 

*** 

Tokyo-1980 

    He followed the scent to the tackiest tourist spot near the airport,and wished he was surprised. 

It led Logan inside some faux pagoda looking place that called itself  'Tora Tora!',and Logan wished he were actually Japanese so he could be really offended. 

Tiny pagoda shaped multicolored lights framed the doorway as he walked into the loud bar/nightclub,separated by rice paper screens into two different areas:a 'family friendly' part with disco pop music and bad karaoke,and an 'American' bar where Yankees could get plastered in  an atmosphere that reminded them of a drive-in restaurant.At least on the alcoholic's side,someone was disgusting the rest of the patrons by playing "Whole Lotta Rosie" on the jukebox. 

Even in the miasma of cigarette smoke,cheap beer,and bad aftershave,he caught the scent. 

He looked around,and caught the eye of an elegantly dressed brunette sitting on a stool at the end of the leather padded bar.She looked like a middle aged divorcee,small wrinkles in the corner of her deep brown eyes that gave her a seasoned but not old look,wearing a trim,short blue and white jacket and skirt set that showed off shapely legs and made her look like a flight attendant.She gave him a silky,seductive smile,and then got up and walked back into the shadows of the bar,swinging her hips more than necessary. 

That sneaky bitch. 

She had taken a table in the most shadowed part of the bar,lit with an occasional multicolored echo from the tacky pagoda lights,and by the time he got there she had changed her appearance to a perfectly kitsch version of a geisha girl,complete with white pancake make up and tiny cupid's bow red lips,black chopsticks holding her long ebony hair up in a traditional knot,while she wore a high necked,Mandarian collar silk dress in the brightest turquoise imaginable. 

"The dress is all wrong,"he told her,taking the chair across from her at the small table and sitting down."It's Chinese." 

"Oh,fuck it,Logan,it's Asian,"she replied."Do you think these redneck fuckwads would know the difference?" 

He sat back in the rickety wooden chair and sighed,shaking his head."You were always very classy,Raven." 

"I told you not to call me that,Wolverine,"she hissed,her appearance instantly changing.It was like a wave rolled over her body,starting from the top of her head and quickly moving down.The geisha girl quickly melted into teenaged blonde jailbait,a California girl in a tight red half shirt that just barely restrained her extreme full breasts and exposed a flat belly,and she flipped her long,straight milk blonde hair over her shoulder."Be nice to me,or like maybe I'll scream rape." 

He scoffed,crossing his arms over his chest."Man,have things gotten that bad for you,Raven?Are you that frightened of me?" 


	6. Part 6

She glared at him,and for a moment her sky blue eyes flared yellow,their true color."Don't flatter yourself, Wolverine.I'd never be scared of you.And what did I tell you about calling me that?" 

"You call me Wolverine and I'll call you Raven."He shot back.She only called him that because she knew he hated it, but that's exactly why he called her Raven.He seriously doubted that was her real first name,but Mystique liked to play her mind games."Now,why the fuck are you here?Didn't you learn enough of a lesson last time?" 

He'd been at the airport,making sure Akihiro Yashida-Riko's cousin-got on a plane to Paris safely (Konichi was actually going with him to Paris because Hiro didn't like Logan,but at least that feeling was mutual),when he smelled a familiar scent,one that raised the hairs on the back of his neck. 

And it was just then he caught the eye of an elderly Japanese man staring at him for a moment in undisguised shock (and recognition) before he turned rather quickly and mysteriously got lost in a crowd.But Logan had the scent and followed it. 

Mystique.Wherever she was,trouble always followed. 

The last time he had seen her,they had been forced,through rather extreme and trying circumstances,to work together on a mission.No matter that she was a freelancer,a mercenary who sold her services to the highest bidder or to whoever caught her fancy,at that time she had been working for an allied intelligence agency,and their goals were vaguely similar.Of course,she tried to screw him in the end,but he had expected that;she expected the same of him. But when it was all said and done,she was far too cocky,obviously assuming him to be as dumb as he looked,but he wasn't (well,always).And while she could 'morph' around injuries to more or less heal them,she had to be conscious to do it.Check and mate. 

She leaned across the table,and for a moment he saw the real her-blue skin,red hair slicked back across her scalp,eyes as yellow as the sun-before she morphed from Valley Girl teenager to a very large,muscular black man who had more than a passing resemblance to 'blacksploitation' actor Jim Brown."You got lucky,Logan,"she said,in a voice so deep Barry White would have been jealous."It won't happen again." 

"Is that why you're here?To throw down?"He leaned forward,meeting her cold stare,and said,"Why don't you scream rape now?This'll be hilarious." 

She sat back,deep brown eyes narrowing to the point where they almost disappeared."You really don't want to try my patience tonight,Logan.I didn't come here to fight you,but if you insist-" 

"What are you here for,then?"He interrupted impatiently.He wanted to get home to Riko.Of course lately all he had wanted to do was get home to Mariko,but that was beside the point. 

"An assignment that is none of your business,"she said haughtily."But I've heard somebody's trying to find an assassin to ice some supposedly unkillable samurai.That wouldn't per chance be you,would it?" 

"Probably,"he admitted,pulling out a cigar and lighting it up.She hated them,and it was extra incentive to do it. 

She scowled at him-truly a frightening sight coming from Jim Brown-and he asked,after taking a lazy puff,"Are you going to up for the job,'Stique?" 

She scoffed,and Jim Brown melted into a small,striking Chinese woman with short black hair and a little too much gold eyeshadow.He figured she was just showing off at this point,but her morphings never bothered him."They're not offering enough.Although,if I knew for sure it was you,I'd have lowered my fee." 

"I'm sure it ain't too late,doll." 

"Why do I want a has been?"she said,and he felt her foot rub against his leg underneath the table.He quickly pulled his leg back,theoretically out of her reach,but since she could morph her legs to any length he couldn't say for sure. "You're such a dead man,Logan.Did you think they'd just let you walk away?" 

"I did my job,I left,"he said,not even bothering to argue with her.It was none of her business anyways. 

"Are you so dumb that you actually think it's that simple?"She said,chuckling faintly under her breath."Why'd you blow such a cushy gig in the first place?I thought you were happy being soldier boy." 

He scowled around his cigar at her,shifting it to the corner of his mouth."I was willing to do my bit and help my country,but I wasn't going to become a cold blooded murderer for them." 

"One person's murder is another person's patriotism,"she replied coolly,morphing into a square jawed,crew cut Marine. 

"It doesn't bother you that they assume we're sub-human because we're mutants?" 

She morphed back to a Japanese woman,but this time her look was more modern."Humans bother me,loverboy.But I'd say their time on the planet is coming to an end,don't you agree?" 

"Not this mutant supremacy bullshit again,"he sighed wearily,rolling his eyes.Mystique was big on that "mutants should take over the whole world" jazz.He couldn't help but think of her as the morphing blue fascist.Not that he'd ever dismiss her.He wished she was crazy,but far from it-she was calculating,ruthless,and cold to the bone.She was the singularly most dangerous person he'd ever had the misfortune to cross paths with.And if anyone could make a 'mutant-topia' happen,it would be her."If  you hate humans so much,why do you take their money?" 

"The better to screw them with it,my dear,"she said,grinning like the Cheshire cat."Are you worried about your bit of sushi,Logan?You always did have a tendency to sleep with the enemy." 

He reached across the table and grabbed her wrists hard,willing himself not to leap across the table and throttle her. "What was that?What did you say?"He growled. 

She glowered at him,and tried to morph herself out of his grip,but he dug his fingers in harder,even as flesh and bone turned into something like putty in his hands."I know about your human bitch,Logan.I can smell her on your clothes,and is that a gold ring you're wearing?Shit,Wolvie,are you trying the Ozzie Nelson routine?"She then threw back her head and laughed,and he felt a flush of rage heat his face.He yanked her forward violently,almost half way across the table,and she stopped laughing long enough to glare at him:he'd gotten her attention."You go anywhere near her,Raven,and I will snap your fucking neck.Is that clear?" 

She met his glare with defiance,cocky until the bitter end,but she wasn't stupid;things would have been infinitely easier if Mystique was stupid."Crystal,"she snarled through clenched teeth,and he let her go. 

She dropped back into her chair,and continued to give him a look that was beyond evil;it was molten,volcanic to the core."I don't want your little Suzie Wong anyways.She'll be out the door as soon as she discovers her big hairy hunk of burning love is a fucking freakazoid." 

"Don't be too sure about that."He didn't bother to point out Wong was a Chinese name-like Mystique actually gave a damn. 

"Oh,I am."She pretended to smooth down an ivory blouse she was not wearing (as far as he could tell,Mystique never actually wore clothes;she morphed them as need be),and said,"Or I wonder what your old government buddies will do to her when they finally track you down.They will,you know.And they got plans for you,Logan."She smiled then,a creepy,frigid smile like a shark right before he bites your leg off."Nasty plans.I think they're calling it Weapon X." 

Maybe that was so,but he'd be a fool to trust anything that fell out of Mystique's blue lips."Watch me shake,"he said nonchalantly. 

She studied him for a moment,then made a noise like a small laugh."That is the one decent thing about you,loverboy.  You got balls.You're dumb as a box of rocks,but you got balls." 

"Last time I checked,"he agreed,not even taking the bait of her 'dumb' comment. 

She stood up to leave (thank god),morphing a long black skirt to cover her legs,and asked,"How did you find me?I was sure I lost you." 

He tapped the corner of his right eye."Can't get past me."She didn't know how acute his sense of smell was,or that her scent remained the same,no matter what form she was currently in.He didn't need to see her to know she was there;he could smell her,an odor as distinct as a fingerprint.But there was no way in hell he was going to tell her that.It was his one ace in the hole against Mystique,and he wasn't about to give it up so easily. 

She shrugged,not convinced but not able to contradict him either,and she started past him in her Japanese schoolteacher outfit.But he grabbed her arm and yanked her down so he could whisper in her ear."Next time I see you,Mystique,one of us ain't walkin' away."He growled.Not a threat,but a sworn oath. 

"Count on it,loverboy,"she whispered back,and then licked the side of his face. 

He shoved her violently away in revulsion,and she laughed musically as he wiped her saliva off his face.It felt like slug slime.But when he turned to throw her a murderous look,she was already gone. 

Twisted bitch.He knew he'd regret not killing her here and now someday-maybe someday soon-but right now he didn't care. 

He stood up,wiping his hands on his pantleg,and left,now more eager than ever to get home to Mariko. 

Sometimes the past just disappeared.Other times,it came back to bite you on the ass.He was really getting tired of both. 

*** 

Los Angeles-Present Day 

    Even though a woman was singing the song,only Bob was singing along."Nobody walks in L.A.!" Bob shouted happily,right along with the singer. 

Logan leaned up between the seats,and quietly asked Helga,"Does he do this all the time?" 

She shrugged."Kinda.The songs vary.At least he has a good voice." 

Logan grunted in agreement and sat back,wondering how a guy so powerful could be so freaking weird.Maybe it came with the territory. 

The traffic this time of day sucked-Logan was sure he could get out and walk faster-but eventually they hit a straight away on the freeway and Bob drove way too fast,the engine purring like a sabertooth tiger,but Logan figured Bob had no fear of speeding tickets. 

The cops had nothing on Emma Nagal,which wasn't too surprising:if she was too visible,she'd be no use as a hit woman.Still,Bob had set one of his people (he didn't know which,didn't think it mattered) off looking for any Nagals in the California area-if he couldn't find her,maybe he could find her family.That was one way to do it. 

The closer they got to Malibu,the more gauzy white clouds,like wisps of torn cotton,began to appear in the robin's egg blue sky,and from the open window on Bob's side (yes,he had air conditioning in this relic,but he didn't like to use it),Logan could feel the air grow cooler,scented with salt along with the typical exhaust.The house began to grow more expensive and farther apart,and Logan actually saw a police prowler cruising the streets.The rich got better protection than your average folks.What a shock. 

Bob had moved on to the more modern yet retro sounds of The Hives,bopping along to the song in his seat,as Helga and Logan began to search in earnest for the house. 

The roads began to wind along the wide stretches of pale beige sand,the sea beyond the beachfront houses a placid mirror of  dark greyish blue,and near the end of one stretch of beach,where a pile of black,barnacle studded rocks rose up like the decomposing rib cage of a fallen giant,was a small,bungalow type house on 'stilts',to protect the house from extremely high tides. 

"That's our baby,"Helga said,just as Bob sang,"I hate to say I told you so." 

"No you didn't,"she replied. 

"Just singing,hon,"Bob said,pulling the GTO over to the opposite side of the road.He stopped rather abruptly, the front left tire sliding a bit on the soft sand shoulder. 

"You never learned to park,did you?"Logan asked. 

"Driving is easy,"Bob replied cheerfully."Stopping...well,that's another story." 

"You park the way Cyclops flies,"Logan said,getting out of the car. 

"Ouch!"He exclaimed."That's just mean." 

They all got out and walked across the road,the silence broken only by the soft whisper of the waves against the shore and the distant cries of seagulls,and Logan got a feeling something was wrong but he didn't know what.He sniffed the air,and knew people had been here,but not when.He only knew they weren't here now. 

There were tire tracks on the sand,leading to and away from the house,and he realized the seagulls were circling,but hadn't landed anywhere near the house or on the beach by it. 

"What's wrong?"Bob asked,coming abreast of him.Helga stood next to him on the other side. 

"I don't know,"he admitted,sniffing the air."Somethin's got the gulls riled up." 

"You can talk to animals too?Cor,I'm impressed,"Helga said,giving him a bright smile. 

He scowled at her,not amused,but she obviously thought she was a laugh riot. 

"Can you tell if someone's home?"Bob continued. 

"It's empty,I think,"he said,as the breeze picked up off the ocean.Along with the sharp tang of brine,he smelled rotting kelp,effluviant from illegal dumping,and...something faint,chemical,acrid.Like napalm,or rocket fuel. 

"Holy shit,"Logan exclaimed,just as the entire house exploded into a huge fireball that lit up the sky like a second sun. 

*** 

Tokyo-1980 

    Mariko poured herself a second glass of red wine,and willed herself not to look at the clock again. 

Logan was late.Logan was never late...unless something awful happened.Then he generally came in smelling of blood. 

Sometimes she wanted to scream at these idiotic people to leave him alone,to leave her family alone,but at some point this territorial pissing contest had turned personal.Now it was a grudge,a blood feud,and it was unlikely to end until one family (or both) was rotting underground.And if it wasn't bad enough before,Logan was a Yashida now;he had married her.Perhaps as a joke,or not,or as a show of solidarity,when they married he took her name-he called himself Logan Yashida now.He admitted to her he didn't remember his real last name.It was possible it was Logan,and his first name was unknown,but he was used to Logan.It was the one thing he said he always managed to remember. 

This was no way to live life,and there were times she thought her feelings of happiness were awful and unforgivable, because so many people had died and suffered,and probably would continue to do so until someone figured out a way to end this madness.Logan had actually come up with a few suggestions,but they had been rejected outright because they all seemed to suggest the 'black market' business needed clearing up.Her family still refused to give up all shady dealings,mainly because "the Takabes can't scare us". 

Well,they were idiots.They scared her,and even Logan didn't like the way the tide had turned,and he was afraid of no man.And that included the tide within the Yashida family itself. 

Four months ago,she had pretended she needed to get away,and had to attend the wedding of an old classmate in America.No one wanted her to go,but Dad-who was now managing to say a few words and seemed to comprehend things-was driving Ryan crazy (he was sure their Uncle Hachiro was pulling his strings,as it were,because he wanted to head the business-he thought Ryan was an 'addlepated drunk'.She couldn't argue,but she was furious that he just assumed the business would go to him if Ryan gave it up-she wasn't even considered a viable life form in his backwards world view),so he didn't care,and Logan nobly accompanied her to the States as a personal bodyguard, letting his 'deputy' Benny take over for the forty eight hours they were gone. 

Of course,the wedding was her own:she and Logan got hitched in a quickie wedding in Las Vegas and then headed back,braced for the shitstorm sure to follow. 

And there was.Hachiro started raging at her about marrying not only a gaijin,but "him-that thug,that creature"...a rant that ended the second Logan came into the room.Hachiro tried to launch a good snit at Logan,but Logan simply crossed his arms over his chest and stared the old man down;Uncle left the room rather quickly.Hachiro was afraid of Logan;he was happy to use him for his help but secretly loathed him,which she hadn't discovered until they were married.It didn't bother Logan."I'm used to being hated,"he said with a shrug.He seemed to think that was no big deal,but that struck her as absolutely hideous.Why did he have to get used to people hating him-and not for him but because he was a mutant? 

Of course,Hachiro didn't know he was a mutant.He simply hated Logan for being white and stronger than he could ever hope to be in three lifetimes.She didn't want to know what would happen if he found out he was a mutant. 

Her father wouldn't look at her when she went to the convalescent home where he now lived,struggling to recover from his devastating injuries.But that was okay with her;her father was a cruel,spiteful man,hideous to his children, and she had honestly never liked him.He and his younger brother Hachiro could be called 'peas in a pod'. 

Ryan's reaction was surprising.He just congratulated them and left it at that (the face Logan made when Ryan said "So you're my brother-in-law now!" was absolutely priceless.She'd never seen him so genuinely horrified),but later he caught her alone,and whispered,"Smooth move,sis,getting him roped into the family like that.What did I say about you being the smart one?" 

The slimy bastard actually thought she married him,prostituting herself in essence,so Logan would have to stay with the family regardless of the contract.She was so appalled she slugged him on the shoulder and told him she insulted he could even think of such a thing,but even while cringing in pain he gave her a conspiratorial wink.He obviously thought that was part of her 'cover'.She let him think whatever the hell he wanted,because she didn't feel like trying to beat the truth through his thick skull. 

Besides,it seemed endemic in the family to believe there was no way in hell she could actually love him,and she couldn't be bothered to take them all on.They believed what they wished to believe.Both she and Logan knew the truth,and that was all that mattered. 

She picked at the yakisoba noodles she picked up at that take out place for dinner,but they were cold and she wasn't hungry anymore,so she got up from the kitchen table and threw them away. 

The one good thing was they had the main house to themselves now.Ryan offered it to them,saying Logan's guest house was "better for a bachelor",but they both knew he thought it would be easier for him to sneak away from Logan and the security team out there.Logan had assigned Benny and Itchy (okay,that wasn't his name,but everyone called him that because of the rash on his neck) to watch him like a hawk and tail him wherever he went,even if the bastard tried to sneak out,and call him instantly if he did.She was amazed Ryan actually thought he could put one over on them. 

She had just thrown the plate,dirty with congealed sauce,in the sink when she thought she heard the front door close. 

"Logan?"She asked hopefully,and then a small trill of shock ran through her.What if it was someone else,someone the Takabes hired...but that was insane.Even if they could breach the security system,would they just walk in? 

Still,she cautiously peered around the dining room entrance,into the living room,before she heard a familiar baritone voice say,wearily,"Yeah,it's me,Riko." 

She exhaled,having never been aware she was holding her breath,and asked automatically,"Are you all right?" 

"Yes,"he said,coming to the dining room.He was still wearing his jacket,having not bothered to take it off."No.I mean,I'm not hurt,if that's what you're askin'." 

She frowned in consternation,studying him carefully.If she didn't know better,she'd think he was depressed."Logan... what's happened?What's wrong?" 

"I am,"he said,and embraced her tightly.She put her arms around him and hugged him back,noting that he smelled faintly of cigars.Now she was more convinced than ever something was horribly wrong. 

"Somebody else has died,haven't they?"She asked into his chest,afraid to look up at him and see the answer on his face. 

"No,nothing like that,"he assured her,kissing the top of her head before letting her go and moving away. 

He walked into the kitchen,then stopped and came back,nervously running a hand through his hair.It was immediately obvious he didn't know what to do with himself,and that made her instantly nervous.When the hell was Logan ever anxious about anything? 

"Hon,you're freaking me the hell out here,"she told him."Could you please stop pacing and tell me what's wrong before I go get the gun?" 

He sighed,and while his eyes seemed to scud over her face,he never looked her straight in the eyes,which unnerved her even more.He pulled one of the oak chairs away from the rectangular dining room table (her father had liked Western decor) and sat down,facing her as opposed to it,but he seemed to be looking at the tiled floor by her feet,not at her."I don't know how to tell you this,Riko..." 

"The beginning's a good place to start,"she pointed out.Was he going to tell her he was leaving her?That he found another woman?Several awful ideas chased themselves around her mind,but she couldn't actually believe any of them.She just wished he'd look at her. 

"I was-"he began,then seemed to falter.He ran a hand through his hair again,and then rested his hands on his knees, unsure what to do with them.Then he seemed to stare at his knuckles for a moment,and found the strength to go on. "I lied to you about my mutations." 

Somehow,that never crossed her mind."How so?" 

"I have one I didn't mention.I don't like to talk about it.I-"he paused again,and finally he looked up at her,and she was taken aback.Were those really tears in his eyes?It stunned her breathless to even speculate. 

"What?Logan,what are you trying to tell me?"She managed to ask.She almost didn't want to hear what he had to say. 

"I...I worked for this agency for a while.They said they were government,but I don't know if they really ever were.If they were,it was complete Black Ops,off the record.In fact,we didn't have names-we had serial numbers and code names only.'Plausible deniability',I suppose.We were mostly mutants too.When they approached me,they didn't think much of me,and didn't see how I could help them,but they threw these guys at me anyways,to see if I could fight.I guess I don't need to tell you how that came out.I impressed the recruiter so much he gave me the code name Wolverine-said I didn't look like much,but I fought like a vicious animal.I guess he thought it was a compliment. Also,these reminded him of a wolverine."Logan closed his eyes,as if concentrating,and his hands clenched into fists on his legs... 

...and something exploded out of his knuckles. 

She managed not to jump,but was unable to stifle the startled gasp.She crept closer for a better look,because she wasn't completely sure what she was seeing,and crouched down to have them at eye level. 

They were...they reminded her of cat's claws.Nine inch segments of bone (?),three on each hand,almost straight but with a slight arcing curve,ending at tips that looked razor sharp and smeared with a bit of his blood acquired when bursting through his flesh.She reached out to touch one,then thought better of it and looked up at him.His eyes were open again,and now she could confirm there were tears glittering in his eyes,while his smile was sardonic and almost bitter."I'm an even bigger fucking freak than you thought." 

She couldn't help but feel a surge of anger at that,and imagined that was communicated through her look."I have never thought you were a freak,Logan.Stop that shit before I smash your face in." 

That almost made him laugh,but a single tear spilled down his cheek."Yes dear." 

"Do...do they hurt?"She had to look away from his face,because she just couldn't bear to see him cry.It seemed like something was terribly wrong with the world if he did.Even more than normal. 

"No,they're bone.No nerves.They only hurt when they rip through the skin." 

She did touch one of the claws tentatively with her fingertips.It felt smooth,like polished ivory,and body temperature tepid.They felt more solid than she would have suspected,especially from looking at them.They had looked so slender ,like knife blades,but they felt more like machetes. 

"I don't like to...let them out,"he admitted."They remind me of what an animal I am." 

She looked up sharply."You're not an animal." 

"I can be,"he replied quietly,sounding almost humbled."Sometimes my anger is bigger than I am.I can't control it. It's like...the human part of me goes away,and I just become possessed by...I don't know.I like to blame it on my animalistic side,but I guess it's simply rage.Akira helped me learn how to contain it,but sometimes I can feel it rising up,threatening to tear me away.It's one of the reasons they liked me.I was their top operative or something.On the last report I saw,I was praised as a 'born killer'."He retracted the claws back into his hands,and she got to see the always startling sight of his skin healing itself almost instantly,closing up without spilling a drop of blood.No matter how often she saw it,it still seemed shocking."I don't want to be that."He closed his eyes,and two more tears rolled down his cheeks. 

She reached up and took his face in her hands,forcing him to open his eyes and look at her."Listen to me,Logan-you aren't." 

"I was,"he said."And they weren't going to let me leave,but I did anyways.So if anyone ever asks you about Wolverine...get away if you can,without letting on that you know about it.But if you can't...kill them first.I know how that seems,but I don't know what they'll do to you.This is all my fault,I should have told you before-" 

"This changes nothing,"she insisted.She wasn't at all surprised that he was some kind of government agent (was he talking about the C.I.A.?):he seemed almost too good at what he did.What did surprise her was the shame and loathing he obviously felt towards himself,about his claws,about what he had done.She wanted to ask him for details -again,there were more questions than answers-but that wasn't the way Logan played the game.He would tell her in his own time. 

"If you ever get hurt because of me-"he began,tears falling from his eyes in earnest now. 

She couldn't stand it.She kissed the tears from his face,peripherally aware even his tears tasted different (less salty), and said,"It's not going to happen.It's not." 

"I couldn't bear it,I couldn't-"he continued,until she kissed him on the lips,shutting him up. 

Her stomach knotted in sorrow and rage,for him and against the bastards that had fucked him around so much he actually thought he was as inhuman as they wanted him to be.That was not the Logan she knew. 

She felt his stubble scrape her skin,which was now so familiar she barely noticed it. Ironically he now shaved every day in deference to her,but his beard seemed to be back at the end of the day.Even his hair regenerated itself. 

He responded to her kiss with a desperation that was almost violent;her lips felt crushed against his,but she didn't care.This was her Logan,and no one else could have him. 

She pulled him down to the floor,the tile cool and hard but Logan was warm.His weight on top of her was welcome and familiar as she slid her hands beneath his shirt,enjoying the feeling of his soft flesh against hers.She felt tears in her own eyes,but kept them closed.She didn't want to think about that,and she didn't want him to think about it either.He had suffered enough.They had suffered enough. 

She felt his tears on her face,and he whispered,"I love you,Mariko.I don't want-" 

"Shh,"she whispered."No more words."She kissed him again,and she felt him relent,let go,give into the kiss as his hand snaked under her shirt,smoothing up her stomach,making goosebumps race up her skin. 

She wrapped one of her legs around his as he brushed his lips down to her throat,pulling up her shirt,and she hardly even noticed the tear that squeezed out of the corner of her eye. 

She loved him,but she lived in fear that fate was aligning against them.Now more than ever. 

** 

    Ryan lit up a cigarette,and mentally congratulated himself on his brilliance.Maybe Mari was the smart one,but he had his moments. 

To be fair,Itchy wasn't the brightest security guard on the planet,but he could be a tenacious bastard.He was just lucky Benny was bored and decided to get loaded,leaving poor,dumb Itchy to handle tailing him all by himself.He figured he lost him near the wharf.Of course,if he had any brains at all he'd know this is where he came,but Itchy wasn't strong on brains.In fact,Itchy hadn't even called Logan yet.Ryan knew this because Logan hadn't stormed in the door and started dragging him out of here like a wayward teenager.Logan was no rocket scientist (really,what American was?),but he did have common sense,and an uncanny ability to find anyone anywhere.If Logan had been called in he would have given up,because he knew from experience there was no shaking that guy.He was like a bloodhound or something. 

Ryan laid back in bed,and glanced at the open door to the interior room,where Asako and Ume had disappeared after Madam Yoriko had called them away for a moment.He had missed this place. 

Oh sure,it was technically a whorehouse,but it was a classy one-this wasn't some dump in the red light district. Madam Yoriko had an exclusive clientele:not just anyone could come here.No pun intended. 

"How 'bout bringin' some more wine?"He shouted,stretching out on the red silk sheets.If this place wasn't heaven,it was close.And he had been away too damn long. 

He saw movement play as shadows across the open door,and when the figured appeared in the doorway he guessed it to be Asako (she was a bigger girl than Ume).But it was obvious the person was a man."Hey,dude,this room's taken," he said,before realizing the man held something that glinted in his hand. 

Maybe it was all the beer,and the pot he had smoked earlier in the evening,but he didn't quite believe the man was holding a gun on him.And even when it began to sink in,it still seemed completely unreal. 

"Oh,"he said,slightly disappointed.Logan was right after all-he never should have come back here. 

It was his last thought before he saw a bright explosion of light from the muzzle of the gun,and suddenly Ryan wasn't thinking or feeling much of anything at all. 

    6 

Los Angeles-Present Day 

    It was pure reflex to grab Helga and hit the ground,trying his best to shield her with his body.Bob was semi-divine or something (whatever the demon equivalent was),and Logan figured he could handle it. 

The force of the shockwave wasn't as impressive as the sheer heat;he smelled it singe his hair as it seemed to roll over them,blistering the exposed skin on his hands in a weird series of pain,numbness,and then pain again as his healing factor instantly took over. 

What debris there was began to rain down,and Logan was glad he wore a leather jacket today,because it had a higher ignition point than most fabric.He felt burning embers drift down and make small pinhole burns on the back of his neck,and on the back of his legs after super hot shards of wood and ash smoldered through the thin denim of his jeans,but while it hurt,he'd had worse. 

Lots worse.Worse to the ten millionth power. 


	7. Part 7

His hearing came back in a roar like the tide,and most of the bigger detritus had already crashed smoking to earth so he sat up,letting Helga go.There was absolutely nothing left of the beach house save for a couple of smoldering stilts that had collapsed in a heap and looked like a bonfire someone had left unattended. 

"Shit,"he cursed,brushing some stray cinders off his pants."Hel,you okay?" 

"I think you gave me some road rash,"she complained,rubbing her elbow as she sat up."But I'll live."She then reached over and patted him on the shoulder.He raised an eyebrow at him,and she said,"You're smoldering,tiger." 

"Oh."He looked over his shoulder,and saw a small wisp of smoke and smelled the baking leather.Everything was baking,so it was a bit difficult to parse it all out. 

Logan looked over to where he last saw Bob,and began to ask,"How-" but instantly stopped. 

He wasn't there. 

"Bob?"He asked,wondering frantically if he could actually be taken down by fire (Angel could,but he was a vampire -Bob was not a vampire).He suddenly had the sense someone was behind him- 

"Boy,that was unpleasant,"Bob said,right behind him,nearly making him jump out of his skin.Bob extended his hand to help him up,but Logan scowled at him for sneaking up on him like that (he hoped he knew it was the explosion and the burning smell that allowed him to get away with that) and got up by himself.Helga simply snaked her tail around his other arm and pulled herself up. 

Logan immediately noticed that,while he looked physically fine,he was no longer wearing a shirt."What happened?"   
Logan asked,gesturing to his naked chest.Did he stand directly in the path of the shockwave and not even duck? 

Bob pulled a torn rag out of the back pocket of his soot stained jeans,and he noticed it was the exact same color orange that the t-shirt Bob had been wearing was."Well,one of the sleeves burnt off,and I didn't feel like runnin' around with my shirt half on like William Shatner in an old Star Trek episode." 

Logan could only nod."Fair enough."Logan didn't bother to point out Bob was more fit than Shat could have ever have hoped to have been,because that just seemed weird.But Bob had no gut in need of sucking in. 

"So,did they know we were coming,or is someone trying to whack the competition?"Helga wondered,scanning the burning remains of the house strewn all over the beach. 

"Well,with drug dealers,it's hard to say,"Bob admitted,and then glanced at Logan."Smell the accelerant,mate?" 

"It was like concentrated napalm,"he told him,shaking cold ashes of the embers that had burned the back of his neck out the sleeves of his jacket."More than necessary to obliterate a pile o' toothpicks like this." 

Logan had moved on to brush any remaining embers off his pants,as the shift of the breeze had brought even more burning ashes blowing towards them,and saw several holes in his jeans.Most were no bigger than a dime,but if one had been two inches down and one and a half inches to the left...well,great balls of fire.That would have hurt. 

Bob had a couple of holes in his jeans,but few,and Helga had escaped most of it,probably because he had taken it for her. 

"Somebody gettin' rid of evidence,"Bob finally said."Nothing could survive a fire that hot,from discs to bodies." 

"Haven't they heard of a shredder?"Helga complained,crossing her arms over her chest."Or a wood chipper?" 

"They wouldn't get rid of the smell,"Bob said,tapping the side of his nose and looking directly at Logan."They know you're here,mate,and they didn't want you identifying them with that fantabulous nose of yours." 

"How could I identify them?"He shot back."I don't remember any of them,or any of this shit." 

"They don't know that,"Bob replied reasonably. 

"Or they don't want to take any chances,"Helga added. 

Logan scowled at the burning remains of the house scattered across the beach,the plumes of gray smoke bringing an early darkness to the sky,and wondered what (who) they had been trying to hide.Not that it mattered.He could be told a name and shown a picture,and he wouldn't know them from any schmo on the street. 

Bob patted him on the back,and said,"Come on,we gotta get out of here before the coppers arrive." 

He nodded,surprised at his own reluctance to turn away from the scene of destruction."Where to now?" 

"I thought I could grab a shirt,"Bob said. 

"Oh,why?"Helga retorted."I like you half naked." 

"If I go into a 7-11,they'll never serve me,"he replied wryly. 

"You people are hopelessly weird,"Logan said,although it was more of an observation than an insult. 

"Coming from a claw guy,that really means something,"Helga said,wrapping her tail around his waist. 

He would have given her an evil look,but he knew she only would have laughed. 

In retrospect,Logan figured he should be flattered:they were so fucking terrified of him they were willing to blow up their house to avoid being discovered by him. 

"Where can he go now?"Helga wondered aloud,as they got in the car.It had been far enough away from the explosion to go unscathed,save for a little paint blistering."He's out of bolt holes.His condo's over-run with blue and he just blew up his beach home.He's gotta have another place we don't know about." 

"Where'd he get the napalm if he didn't buy it from you?"Logan asked.Although you could,in theory,make your own napalm,he really didn't think a guy like this would bother:why make it when you can just buy it? 

Bob stared at him over the roof of the car for a moment,and then gave him that big,cheesy grin again."Good on ya, mate.You just gave us our first lead." 

Logan almost asked how exactly,but decided it was best just to leave it alone for now. After all,he'd find out soon enough. 

*** 

Tokyo-1980 

    Sometimes Mariko questioned her loyalty to a family she hated so much. 

She was barely finished making Ryan's funeral arrangements when she got word of  Uncle Hachiro muscling in and trying to take over the business.He couldn't even wait until he was buried. 

Logan was furious at the security failure as well as Ryan evading Benny and Itchy and no one even bothering to tell him about it,but he had promised to track down the killer and "take care of it".She had to tell him she didn't want that:blood begat more blood,and the cycle seemed unending.She wanted it to stop,she just wasn't sure how she could do it. 

But she knew where to start. 

When Logan came into the living room,where she sat curled up on the end of the sofa,he gave her the saddest look.She knew he blamed himself for not watching Ryan more closely,but it wasn't his fault.If anything,it was Ryan's fault-he knew the risks of sneaking out alone,and he didn't care.He thought he could get away with it. 

Logan came over and knelt in front of her,taking her hands in his.She was sure she looked a sight-no make up,eyes red from crying,all stuffed up and snotty-but he'd probably seen her worse."Riko,"he began,but she didn't let him finish.He didn't need to express his sympathy or be sorry anymore.Now was the time to suck it up and get down to business. 

"Logan,I'm going to need you now more than ever,"she said,blinking back tears.She was damn tired of crying."I'm taking control of the family business-a fight in itself-and I'm going to be making some decisions that won't be very popular in some parts of the family." 

He squeezed her hands in a comforting manner,his green eyes bright with understanding."You're going to shut the black market segment down." 

She nodded,strands of her long,dark hair falling across her face.But she didn't want to let go of his hands to brush them away."I don't think some of them are going to react very well-" 

"They wanna get to you,they have to get through me first,"Logan insisted,and she recognized the insanely stubborn look in his eyes and in the set of his jaw.If she said she was going to hell he'd probably lead the way,and that's one of the things she loved about him. 

She slipped her hands free of his,but only so she could take his face in her hands and kiss him on the forehead."Oh,my love,you're the only thing left in this family I care about anymore." 

He put his strong,rock hard arms around her and held her tight,nestling his head against her neck."You're the only thing I've ever cared about,"he said,and she wasn't sure if she should be flattered or slightly unnerved that he sounded so sincere. 

** 

Tokyo-Six Months Later 

    The noodle bar in the Shinjuku district was remarkably crowded when Hachiro arrived,but that had been the entire point of meeting him here. 

Even among all the customers sitting at the small,dark wood tables and standing at the oak paneled 'bar',it was easy to note the bodyguards in spite of their attempts at 'casual' clothing:they were too bulky to be businessmen stopping in on their lunch break.But Hachiro traveled with his own bodyguard,not one of Logan's minions,as he didn't need word getting back to that asshole. 

It was almost impossible to schedule a secret meeting with Dayu Takabe (he had no hope of meeting with Izumo);it had been a month in the making,and they both had to agree to very public,neutral territory to short circuit any attempt at assassination attempts and ambushes.Of course,that was a long shot,but so far so good. 

Per their agreement Dayu sat at a table near the bar,far from the door and the windows and prying ears,but not so hidden he wouldn't be visible to the entire restaurant.It was a safety precaution for them both. 

He had a bodyguard at a table within reach,pretending to eat noodles,while another sat at the bar.Hachiro's bodyguard was sitting at a table just off to the right,drinking tea (thanks to a secret transmitter,he was able to give him the 'all clear' signal). 

Hachiro wove his way through the crowded restaurant and took the only free seat at Dayu's table.Dayu was a severe looking young man,his angular face well scrubbed but still riddled with acne scars that gave his skin the appearance of pumice,his sleek,oiled black hair cut and swept back in a short,Western manner.He wore a black sharkskin suit that was probably designer,but Hachiro didn't know one designer from another. 

"Mr. Yashida,"Takabe said coolly,his hazel eyes holding a hint of disdain. 

"Mr. Takabe,"Hachiro said in reply,not quite stifling his own distaste. 

"I hope this is not some lame attempt at concessions,"Takabe said,obviously assuming the preliminaries were out of the way."I thought you people were getting out of the black market anyways." 

"We are,"he admitted grudgingly,through clenched teeth."But I think we have a similar problem." 

Takabe lifted an eyebrow,looking so arrogant it was hard to suppress the urge to smack him."And that would be..?" 

"The samurai." 

"Ah.Worn out his welcome since he married your niece,hmm?" 

Hachiro ignored that.His niece had always been an uppity bitch anyways;Kyoshi should have never sent her to college in the States."I'm here to propose a deal.I will help you eliminate the gaijin in exchange for a cease fire."Logan was the only thing standing in his way:if he was gone,he'd have no trouble deposing Mariko. 

"What would keep us to the cease fire agreement if the samurai is gone?"Takabe pointed out. 

"I have a new security chief waiting in the wings.Former Mossad,knows his stuff,and takes orders from me alone.He is only for protection-I have no desire to continue this silly war,and I doubt you do too." 

"But is he a mutant?" 

Hachiro glared at him,wondering what kind of joke that was supposed to be."Huh?Are you accusing Logan of being a mutant?" 

"Don't play dumb,Mr. Yashida,it doesn't suit you,"Takabe said,settling back in his chair with a smug smile on his face.But after a moment,he raised a slender eyebrow at him."Are you saying you actually didn't know?" 

Hachiro wondered if this was what it felt like to be shot.He didn't think he could move,or even breathe;he felt so cold it was like he had just been entombed in ice. 

"You're lying,"he finally managed to hiss.But didn't it make sense?That ugly fucker just didn't die;he never even seemed to get hurt,and how often had he been caught in the middle of a hail of bullets? 

"Actually,on the last attempt on him,we had an expert taking pictures,"Takabe admitted."We were hoping to find a weakness we could exploit.He seems remarkably impervious to weapons,but that was no surprise-we already had that figured out." 

"Your pictures prove he's a mutant?"Hachiro felt remarkably numb,like this was a dream and not actually happening,but somewhere deep inside he could feel the kindling spark of rage.He dismissed most of Logan's behavior as typical of an obnoxious American,but what if he was a freak?A fucking gene joke...married into the family.Oh god no. 

"They prove he's highly abnormal.He takes a knife in the throat,but the best it does is drop him to one knee.He yanks it out and throws it at another man-a bullseye by the way,hits a nerve cluster in the right deltoid muscle and the man can't use his right arm anymore-a rather amazing feat in and of itself,although perhaps not for a samurai.But here's the thing:viewing the photos in sequence,you can clearly see the knife wound in his throat close up.It's actually kind of creepy.He doesn't lose much blood either,which seems odd for a throat wound." 

"I want to see these photographs." 

"Absolutely.I'll have them sent to you.I had no idea he didn't tell you what a dirty freak he was-I thought that was why you hired him." 

The numbness was giving way to a sort of lividness that made him not only start to feel again,but made him feel positively homicidal."We had no idea,"he rasped,struggling to stay in control.It could still be a dirty Takabe lie,he couldn't completely believe it...(yet,not yet...) 

"And little Mariko didn't even tell you?"Takabe asked smugly. 

That hit him like a slap across the face."What?" 

"Well,she has to know.He's her husband,for Christ's sake.I mean,even if he faked the blood test to get married so no one picked up on the X factor in his blood,how could she not know?I mean,come on.How many things have you been able to hide from your wife?" 

Suddenly Hachiro wasn't able to hear much at all,as his ears seemed to fill with a buzzing white noise,and anger seemed to fog his mind completely. 

Logan was a mutant,and Mariko knew it.She had deliberately brought gene trash into the family,and now expected to run it,with her mutant freak of a husband keeping everyone else at bay.Conniving,perverted fucking bitch.She was determined to bring the Yashidas down in every way possible. 

But now Hachiro knew what he had to do.He had to bring them down first. 

Both of them. 

    7 

Los Angeles-Present Day 

    Logan gave him a funny look when Bob found out he had a spare t-shirt shoved in the glove compartment,but that simply proved he hadn't been with Hel enough;after a while,you got used to losing articles of clothing.She was a horny little demon,and how absolutely fun was that? 

Logan looked like he could use a bit of that right about now.Actually,Bob rather wished he'd get a whole hell of a lot of tail (no pun intended) and very soon,because maybe it would soften the blow somewhat... 

No,that was a complete lie.There was no softening a blow like this.Bob could remember how it felt to watch his first wife die (from disease as opposed to assassination),and there was nothing to assuage that,nothing to make it feel better.Time had softened it,of course;time was erosion,constantly lapping at the shores of memories and emotions, crumbling away the edges and smoothing things down until they felt more palatable,easier to bear,but it never actually went away. 

Except for Logan,of course.The wholesale loss of his memory was probably a blessing here,but there was no getting around how unfair it was to steal someone's memory from them,even if that memory was overflowing with almost unbearable pain. 

Bob had taken enough memories himself to know how wrong it was. 

Besides,Logan probably had some very happy memories with his wife.To put up with such a grumpy gus,she much have loved him,and to abandon some of natural (?) isolationist tendencies he must have loved her. 

He must have been positively crazy about her to do what he did on Bloody Friday. 

He knew if he thought along those lines Logan would probably pick up on his grim expression and start asking questions he still wasn't sure how to answer yet,so he popped in a tape and started singing again.Oh sure,it annoyed the hell out of Logan,but it kept him from asking questions,and if he had to he was prepared to sing the entire libretto of  Aida,and he positively hated opera.But if kept Logan quiet for now he was all for it. 

Bob knew he could push him;he could tell him he had his answers,without specifically remembering what they were,and he was satisfied with them,but enough people (mutants,demons) had fucked with his head,and he deserved better than that from a purported friend.Besides,answers that kicked the life out of you was better than no answers at all. 

One of those small L.A. miracles had occurred while they were off in Malibu:the traffic got worse.The only time traffic was actually decent in the L.A. basin was between three and five in the morning,Sunday through Thursday, and even that was scattershot at best.Bob was pretty sure many cars didn't even have drivers,but were simply empty cars sent out by an evil,pissed off sorcerer or sorceress who decided to curse L.A. for its monstrous hubris by releasing a horde of ghost autos for all eternity.Many people thought he was joking about that,but no,he was quite serious. Some people had a really vicious sense of humor. 

"Where the hell are we going?"Logan asked.He probably was asking Helga,but there was a gap between songs,and Bob was happy to answer that question. 

"Resida,"he said,and then added,"We are all going to Resida someday,to die." 

"Do you need medication?"Logan asked,giving him the evil eye in the rearview mirror (speaking of vicious senses of humor).How the hell did he arch his eyebrow like that?Bob wished he could do that. 

"It's a line from a Soul Coughing song,"he explained.He drove all the demons in the Way Station crazy with that CD,but hey,it was great boho shit-they didn't make music like that anymore. 

"Whoopty fucking do,"Logan said,with his usual enthusiasm (none)."So what's in Resida,other than our inevitable deaths?" 

Logan really needed to bring out his sense of humor more.It was black as pitch,but he had great comic timing. 

Somehow Bob figured Logan wouldn't take that as much of a compliment,although it was."A place called Judd's Guns and Firing Range.Old Judd is a militia freak who runs weapons-mostly government surplus-on the side.I don't know of anyone else who would move napalm,at least in the Southern California area." 

"Other than us,"Helga pointed out.Her tail kept snaking into his lap,and he had to keep removing it,which was difficult when traffic was actually moving.Luckily,that wasn't often.She had finally (at least for now) stopped trying to make him crash the car,and settled for her tail curling around his thigh. 

"Well,yes." 

"Do I even wanna know how you know this?"Logan asked. 

"I know everything,"he replied.Okay,an exaggeration,but if he didn't know it he could always find out. 

Logan grunted in agreement and sat back in his seat to wait for them to arrive,exercising a rare bit of patience. 

Finally,the fast lane cleared up a bit,and they were able to start moving at a reasonable speed towards the city.  
Some areas of Resida were nice,but they were headed for the less respectable side,the side that sort of resembled a distaff Oakland.A surprising amount of dirtbags lived quite well,but Judd was not among them.It wasn't that he didn't have the money-weapons was an extremely lucrative market that was always booming-but Judd was borderline mentally ill:the sort of man who didn't put his money in the bank more than he buried it in the backyard sealed in old coffee cans,and what money he did spend went into bulk military MRE's and bottled water to hoard in his bomb shelter for the inevitable uprising of the potato people. 

Honestly,he shouldn't have been anywhere a single gun,nonetheless a whole stockpile,but Judd's own mental instability made him a bad salesman,and Bob found him ludicrously easy to keep an eye on,unlike the more savvy and vicious weapons dealers who usually tried to set up shop around here.It was the case of the crazy devil you knew being better than the fucking psycho one you didn't. 

"Bloody smiling,vandalizing,my wet dream is drying up,"Bob sang along with Mr. Bungle as he pulled into the parking lot of Judd's.There were maybe half a dozen cars here (okay,trucks and SUVs,with a lone Dodge Dart near the front),many sporting NRA bumper stickers and American flags and an occasional ski (and gun) rack and child carrier seat,the latter of which he found really disturbing."Hey hon,gonna take the kids out and teach 'em how to kill this weekend."But he knew there were some fruit loops who actually thought of it as a 'right of passage' or something, people who had most likely never actually witnessed death or violence themselves.He wondered how they'd feel if he, Hel,and Logan-people who had arguably seen and experienced way too much violence in their lives-started to lecture them on it.He had no idea how they'd feel,but he knew how they'd react:shoot them. 

Sometimes people were just too predictable. 

As soon as they got out of the car,Logan cocked his head and got a funny look on his face."Hear them shooting?"Bob asked.The 'shooting range' of the title was underground,which seemed like a funny choice in the earthquake capital, but it kept neighboring businesses from complaining and circumvented lawsuits based on stray bullets plugging the occasional car and pedestrian. 

He couldn't hear it up here-no one theoretically could-but it was obvious that was what Logan heard.Bob didn't know how he managed to stand cities or normal society at all;everything was so bloody loud,and he must have had better hearing than a vampire,which was really saying something.He must have had some way of filtering it out so it didn't constantly bust his eardrums. 

"They got fully automatic handguns down there,"Logan noted,with a shrug."What a shock,huh?" 

"And you can tell the type of weapons too,"Bob said,shaking his head in awe."You missed your calling as a safe cracker." 

"Why crack a safe?I can just cut 'em open." 

"He's got you there,"Helga said,donning her sunglasses. 

Bob had to give her that.He smoothed down the wrinkles still in his white t-shirt and pulled his sunglasses out of his pocket,putting them on as Logan led the way across the heat fissured pavement towards the store,which still resembled on the outside the old service station it used to be. 

A cowbell hung inside the door let the clerk know they had entered,but Bob knew the rustic ornament was as much atmosphere as ruse:there were high tech security scanners hidden in a rack of 'Soldier of Fortune','Guns'n'Ammo' and similar magazines on one side of the door,and what appeared to be a stuffed grizzly bear standing on its hind legs in an 'attack' pose on the other side (the poor bear-its fur looked moth eaten,and it stank of some sort of delousing solution).The second they set foot in the door they were scanned for weapons of any sort.Bob wondered how Logan came out.Since it was a metal detector,it was probably screaming its little head off,or simply had some type of mechanical breakdown. 

The place reeked of cordite,oil,and tobacco-a seemingly ubiquitous combination-and not quite sprawling,chaotic aisles made up of gun racks and shelves holding their peripherals (sights,tripods,bullets,covers,etc.) and legally sellable military surplus,such as canteens and survival kits.This was the legit business portion,though. 

Behind the large glass counter,where expensive 'collector's' weapons were on display on a tawny velveteen background,was the clerk,a young,barely legal pimply faced boy with a ruddy complexion,and Bob knew it was Judd's nephew Caleb from Arkansas. 

Caleb's eyes bulged out of their sockets when he saw Helga,a combination of desire and fear typical to humans seeing her for the first time,but when his pale blue eyes scudded over to Bob,his skin became the color of oatmeal,which made the spots on his face that much more violently red.Obviously he was on his Uncle's shit list,the one taped out of customer view on the clerk's side of the counter.Bob caught him with his mind before he could make any move to alert his Uncle. 

"Hello Caleb,"he said,taking off his sunglasses.He didn't need to,but the light was pretty dim in here."Get on the special line and tell your Uncle that someone's here for some special customizing."Judd's name for it."Tell him it's anyone that will make him jump like a 'roo." 

Caleb didn't acknowledge him at all,he simply picked up the phone and complied.It was now possible for them all to hear the gunshots far below,although they sounded more like loud,repetitive thuds than small explosions,probably due to the soundproofing material. 

"I take it you're going to handle Judd,"Logan said quietly.He sounded disappointed. 

"He's penny ante,Logan;you'd find him a major disappointment.You could kick his ass with your hands tied behind your back." 

"I can kick a lot of people's asses with my hands tied behind my back,"he replied matter of factly.Coming from anyone else it would sound arrogant,and it was skirting the edge of smugness,but having seen him fight several times now Bob actually didn't doubt that.Logan knew his stuff.He just didn't know how he knew it. 

"You can go ahead,"Caleb said,putting the handset of the phone down.He no longer knew Helga and Logan were in the room. 

Bob led the way to the back,where a sagging khaki green curtain hid a locked metal door that unlocked with an audible clank as soon as they were within its sensor perimeter.It was a manual door,though,so Bob had to push it open,although it swung aside easily enough. 

The interior was revealed to be a dark,austere antechamber,where a stark wooden table and three chairs surrounded all but one side of the rectangle.In one of those chair was the eponymous Judd,a middle aged man with a paunch and thinning straw colored hair,his skin an almost incandescent fishbelly white from having been underground and out of the sun for so very long.Seeing Bob,he jumped to his feet,and exclaimed,indecorously,"Ah fuck!Not you again!" 

Bob smirked,rather expecting that reaction,but Bob motioned for him to sit back down.He looked like he was going to fight him on it,but Judd wasn't so nuts that he didn't know Bob pretty much got what he wanted when he wanted it.He thought about going for his gun (Judd always had a gun handy),but Bob just shook his head.Even if he could go for it,it wouldn't do him any good:Helga was the only one of the three not impervious to bullets,yet still he'd have to get off an extremely lucky shot to take her down with a single one. 

With obvious reluctance,Judd collapsed back into his chair,and it groaned so savagely Bob thought it might collapse too.It held for now,though."I'm sick an' tired of you thinkin' you can just barge in here and push me around-" 

"I don't think I can,mate,"Bob interrupted,although he did his best to remain polite."I know I can." 

Judd scowled at him,although it didn't make him look intimidating.It simply made him look constipated."What the fuck do you and your freaky friends want?" 

"You recently sold a large quantity of napalm.To whom?" 

Judd scoffed."I ain't-" 

"Yes you are,"Bob said.Funny how people actually thought they could fight him,as if Bob's power was somehow voluntary. 

Since Judd was neither the smartest or most stable man in the world,it didn't take a lot of pushing to get him to comply."To some Japanese guys,"Judd said,not at all helpfully. 

"Did they say who they worked for?" 

"I'm not sure." 

"A man named Takabe?" 

"I think that name came up." 

"Where did they take the napalm?" 

"I didn't ask." 

"No,you didn't,but you know,don't you?"This was where Judd's natural paranoia could only work for them.He made it his business to know where some of the more volatile stuff ended up,if only to satisfy his own morbid curiosity.If his customers knew it,they wouldn't like it at all. 

"Santa Monica.An illegal gambling club named Robin Hood's." 

"I've heard of that place,"Helga said."There's been rumors it's mob run,but no one's sure which mob." 

"Are there that many?"Logan wondered. 

"Oh sure.You got your classic mafia,your Yakuza,your Triad,your Russian mob and several dozen others,including many different types of demon mobs."Bob explained."You kind of  need a scorecard to keep track of everyone." 

"I bet." 

"Thanks for your help,Judd.Next time I drop by,I expect you to be more polite,and maybe you can taper off on the illegal weapons trade,huh?"Bob suggested,although to be fair it was actually an order.As he slipped his sunglasses back on,he added,"We were never here." 

They left Judd simply sitting at his table,looking dumbstruck and slightly confused,and Caleb was no better,but hey,they'd get over it. 

Back in the car,Bob used his cell phone to call city hall and get the ownership records on Robin Hood's as Logan, finally too damn hot,slipped off his leather jacket in the back seat."What I want to know is when we finally get to kick some ass,"he complained,also shucking off his plaid overshirt.There were several holes like cigarette burns in the front of his black t-shirt,although the skin visible through the tears looked perfectly fine.But he wouldn't be Logan if that wasn't the case. 

"Soon,tiger,"Helga assured him."We just have to get the right trail.The bad guys generally don't like getting caught." 

"I've noticed." 

Usually,when dealing with City Hall,there were several layers of bureaucracy to overcome before you could hope to get anything accomplished,but he was not your typical guy,therefore what would usually take about a week took him a few minutes.But what he heard on the phone made his stomach suddenly seize up,clenching like a fist.Either it was a sick joke,or there was something more twisted going on here,and that was almost hard to believe. 

Why was he surprised?Nothing with Logan was ever easy.It was like his super duper immune system rejected the simple. 

"Huh,"Bob said,flipping his phone shut and slipping it into the front pocket of his jeans. 

Helga knew what that syllable meant."It's that bad?" 

"What is it?"Logan chimed in from the back seat."Who owns the club?" 

Bob glanced out the window at Judd's shop,so he didn't accidentally encounter Logan's eyes in the rear view mirror.  
"Someone by the name of  Razan Yashida." 

*** 

Tokyo-1981 

    The Akahito Convalescence Home was nothing like the pathetic 'rest homes' in the States,where they had no respect for their elders and had a tendency to dump them into flea bitten rat holes to die,discarded like yesterday's newspapers.No,this was a mansion converted into a stately collection of apartments,with a full time medical and wait staff,for elders with medical problems too severe to be taken care off at home or no family to properly look after them. 


	8. Part 8

Kyoshi Yashida lived in one of the better suites on the ground floor,with a terrace that opened directly on the walled garden that surrounded the estate on the outskirts of Tokyo.Well tended garden beds,full of brightly colored annuals and a well kept roses in spring and summer,were now bare save for rock sculptures and small ceramic pagodas hidden among neatly clipped evergreen hedges and minute winter flowers,lining paths made of smooth river stones that led towards the reflecting pond and the small copse of towering pines at the back of the land.It was far from the noise and crowds of the city,and seemed like a little slice of paradise. 

Hachiro bet his older brother hated it;he was always more urban,and had more Western style tastes,but since the car bombing he had needed extensive,round the clock care,and this was one of the best facilities in all of Japan. 

As the nurse led him down the long wooden corridor to his brother's 'apartment',he kept the file tucked firmly under his arm,and found himself strangely upbeat,almost jovial.He even caught himself humming a tune he'd heard recently,an old Stones tune he would never publicly he liked,because unlike Kyoshi,he was not flagrant in liking anything Western."Rape,murder,it's just a kiss away,"he muttered to himself,as the stout,white clad nurse opened the door to Kyoshi's suite,and let him inside. 

Kyoshi was sitting up in the hospital bed in the front room of his suite,staring blankly at the t.v. across the room, whose volume was so even he could barely hear it. 

"Hey there big bro,how's it going?"Hachiro asked,as the nurse left,shutting the door behind her. 

Kyoshi didn't acknowledge him in any way,which was typical. Shortly after the bombing it was decided he'd be a vegetable for most of his remaining life,and then,when he began to show some signs of response,severely brain damaged.He was not nor would ever be his old self,but he showed moments of lucidity,brief times when you were sure he knew very well what was going on and what had happened to him,and was not happy about it.Hachiro was convinced he deliberately retreated from awareness most of the time,because he was so unhappy with the bitter reality of his new and tattered life. 

He had once been powerful,feared by family and rivals alike;now he was a maimed husk of a man dying an inch at a time in a convalescent home,peeing through a catheter shoved up his dick and being fed by condescending nurses and i.v. tubes threaded in his arms.Hachiro supposed if Kyoshi could kill himself,he would. 

Kyoshi had never been handsome.Hachiro was relatively sure-save for himself,of course-no Yashida male had ever been known for their good looks,but they all looked like Adonis next to Kyoshi now. 

The explosion had ripped off almost literally half his face;the left side of his jaw and cheekbone had to be completely reconstructed surgically,and skin grafts put on to replace the skin that had been torn and burned away.While most of the procedures had been successful,he still had extensive scarring on the right side of his face that made the skin look as layered and gnarled as the bark of a diseased tree,all knotting beneath the patch that covered his right eye.  
He had a glass eye he could wear,but he chose not to.The staff put the patch on him,because Kyoshi was more than content to simply leave the empty socket where his eye had once been exposed for all to see.He had lost the will to care what he looked like it seemed,or-and this was Hachiro's opinion alone-he knew how that empty hole unnerved and sickened people,so he deliberately exposed it to repulse people.If they had known his brother at all,they would see the wisdom in that. 

"I brought you something interesting,Yosh,"he said,coming over to his bedside,sidestepping the small forest of i.v. stands and machines that clustered like obedient servants at the head of the bed on either side."Something about your son-in-law.You do remember your ugly white bastard of a son-in-law,right?" 

Kyoshi's single brown eye finally tracked toward him,and glared at him with a hate that was almost molten.Yes,he remembered,and he didn't like being reminded of it either. 

Hachiro was unable to keep from smiling.This was just going to be too damn good. 

He slipped the file out from under his arm and put it on the white bedspread,directly on Kyoshi's lap,and opened the file for him just to get things started. 

When Kyoshi finally turned his eye from the financial news broadcast to the folder,he saw the first photo of  Logan fighting approximately six of Takabes men,a group of thugs twice his size,that Logan made very short work of, although proceeding the photograph,one of them threw a knife that had wedged itself firmly in Logan's throat.Logan was seen pausing during the fight to pull it out. 

Since Yosh was missing three of the fingers on his left hand,and his right arm was laden with tubes,Hachiro flipped the pictures over for him.The next photos,in sequence,showed Logan successfully pulling the knife out,exposing a sizeable gash in his throat.In a sequence so fast the camera actually missed a bit of it,the gash seals itself up,like his skin was not only a living organ but an intelligent one,finding atypical gaps in the network and quickly pulling them shut. 

During this time,he also dispatched with the men quite easily.Hachiro always knew Logan was ugly,but these pictures allowed him to notice,as if for the first time,that there was something almost animalistic about his face.His canine teeth,exposed in a feral snarl for the camera,seemed almost too long,like fangs,and his eyes...well,he couldn't quite put his finger on it,but they seemed somehow less than human.The fact that he could take those men down in approximately three minutes (more or less the time frame for all the photos,beginning to end,including ones he had left at home) proved it if nothing else did. 

Yosh bent closer,trying to focus on the photos,and Hachiro told him,"I had these pictures tested.They haven't been doctored.I have the negative-or at least a copy of them-to prove it.Our samurai is a dirty fucking mutant,brother,a disgusting piece of gene trash."He paused for effect."Mariko knew it when she married the animal.Now she and the freak are tearing our empire apart,and they plan to run the ashes of our industry together.I think you know as well as I what has to be done." 

Truth be told,he didn't need Kyoshi's approval to do jack shit.But he wanted him to know what was happening,and he wanted it to poison the son of a bitch.He was his brother,and he had run the business well for many years,but that didn't mean he ever had to like him. 

The last photo of the six Hachiro had brought showed the large path of blood where the wound had bled,but the wound itself was visibly gone,the skin unbroken and as smooth as the rest of the flesh on his neck.Creepy was not the word for it:unnatural was.A crime against not only nature but humanity itself. 

With a deliberate slowness,Kyoshi looked at him with his one good eye,its baleful glare still palpably malevolent,and he said in a raspy whisper,all that was left of his once commanding voice:"Kill them." 

Hachiro smiled,feeling a positively warm glow fill his entire body.That was exactly what he was planning to do.He didn't know much about the samurai,but what he did know was they were all about control,duty;working inevitably towards a death with honor and grace.Poor Logan:in the end he would find no honor,no grace. 

But death?Oh yes,that was already arranged. 

** 

Tokyo-1981 

    Logan had no idea why Hachiro would call an emergency meeting of the stockholders,but he didn't like it.Of course,he never like Hachiro:the man looked at him like an insect,beneath contempt. 

"Don't worry your pretty little head about business,"Mariko said teasingly,quickly shoving some documents into her briefcase."That's my job." 

He snorted a laugh and put an arm around her shoulders,pulling her closer and resting his head against hers as she snapped the leather case shut.She leaned back against him,sliding her case to the floor and putting a hand on his leg.  
Natsume was driving Mariko to the meeting,and he had insisted on coming along,because...because why exactly?The first thing he said was it was getting dark,and he just felt better about it;it got dark so fast in January.Sometimes it hardly seemed light. 

But she was quick to point out she was headed to the home office of Yashida Consolidated,in the upscale Meguro business district-what could go wrong there? 

Everything,of course.Things went wrong when you least expected them to,and even when you did expect them to; trouble was fun like that.And he just wanted to come.That was good enough for her. 

Truth was the wind had shifted,at least within the family,and it unsettled him deeply.Riko knew it had but wasn't too concerned:"They always bitch about something,"she had said,and that was true enough. 

But this felt different somehow.It was as if they were backing off.She said he had done that,and he wanted to believe that,but he couldn't.It almost felt like the calm before the storm.Yet when had there been any shit he couldn't deal with? 

"Let's forget it,Riko,"he told her quietly.Despite the partition between the back seat and the driver in front,he didn't want Natsume to hear a syllable of it."Let's just go." 

"He's not only my Uncle,he's the Vice President of the company,Logan,"she replied,stunned but equally quiet."If he's calling in the stockholders,I have to be there.I want to know why." 

"I don't just mean the meeting-I mean all of it.I'll tell Natsume to take us to the airport;we'll catch the first plane out heading West.It doesn't matter where." 

She drew back,and stared at him like he was insane."What?" 

"Don't worry about money,passports,any of that shit.Lots of people owe me some favors,and I can call 'em all in.We can start a new life away from all of this bullshit.Let the family rot in hell,Mariko;they don't deserve a single ounce of the loyalty and dedication you've shown them.Some people don't deserve to be saved." 

Anger flashed briefly in her eyes,but quickly seemed to ebb away,and she gave him a gentle,almost sad smile as she came back to him,slipping her arm around his shoulders and resting her forehead against his."Love,what's made you so worried? Aren't we copacetic?" 

"Things will get worse before they get better,if they ever do.I can't keep risking you,Riko." 

"You're not risking me,I am.We're winning the fight,Logan.For once in its existence,Yashida Consolidated is clean, and I intend to keep it that way."She pulled away slightly,enough to look him in the eye as her expression seemed to harden.Ah,the stony resolve face."But if you feel you must go,Logan-" 

"I'm not leaving without you,"he insisted.She was not the only one with a stony resolve face around here. 

She kissed him on the bridge of the nose."You're cute when you're stubborn." 

He pulled her into a passionate kiss,her mouth tasting of astringent green tea and lemon,and he was sorry to let her go.He knew there was little to no chance she would be so blinded by passion she'd throw caution to the wind and agree,but it was his last hope. 

She let out a small sigh as she pulled away,her hand resting on his chest,the warmth of her palm radiating through the cotton of his shirt."Save some of that for later,sweetheart.Wow." 

"Let's go now,"he said,not quite pleading but very close.He hadn't stayed in one place this long ever in his life,not since he became an agent and then left them behind,and maybe that's why he felt so anxious,pent up,trapped like a rat in a maze.If the danger was his alone,he could accept that,but he wasn't alone anymore.In a way that was worse; it left you vulnerable in so many ways he hadn't really considered much before.He just wished he knew if it was simply paranoia or his own well honed gut instinct telling him they had to leave now,or they might never get the chance. 

She patted his chest,and he knew then she was going to say no."As soon as things settle down,why don't we take a vacation?We never had a proper honeymoon.Where would you like to go?" 

"Anywhere but here." 

"Narrow it down." 

He shrugged,feeling almost suffocated by a palpable sense of doom.He thought the idea of them ever going on a honeymoon-ever going anywhere alone and with a sense of safety-was a pipe dream.But he didn't want to tell her that."Where do you want to go?" 

She leaned her head against his shoulder as she thought it over."Hmm.Hawaii's kind of trite.What do you think about Aruba?Jamaica?" 

"Aruba's nice,but too touristy,"he said."Jamaica's beautiful,but I have some bad memories there...what about the Seychelles?White sand beaches,crystal clear aquamarine lagoons,lots of privacy.They like tourists,because they don't get a lot." 

"Sounds like paradise." 

"There's no such place.But it's close." 

"Then the Seychelles it is.Where is it,by the way?" 

"Indian Ocean.Northeast of Madagascar and the mid-African coast;part of a small island chain." 

"I didn't know there was anything out there." 

"Now you know why they don't get a lot of tourists."Logan glanced out the window,at the neon bright cityscape gliding by,and wondered if they were in anybody's target sites right now. 

The car windows were tinted to keep people from seeing who was inside;the car was also bullet proof,right down to the tires.It was state of the art,the kind of car only available to diplomats in volatile countries,but money compensated for lack of political ties.In theory,it was almost as safe as a tank.But he didn't feel safe tonight;he was not sure if he had ever felt safe,but tonight it was a thousand times worse. 

The home office of  Yashida Consolidated was just another steel and glass skyscraper in a canyon of  similar skyscrapers in the heart of  the Meguro district.While the other buildings were lit up like Christmas trees people had yet to take down,few people were on the meticulously clean sidewalks,which was typical for this time of evening.In theory,he could see any threat coming from almost any direction,but the art of urban fighting was very different than fighting in any other setting:there were hundreds of places to hide,and the chance of 'collateral damage' (hurting innocent people by mistake) was enormous.You had to be careful,you had to know what you were doing,you had to know the nature of the attack before you could successfully counter it.How he longed for a good fight in the mountains or in the forest,or even a desert or a goddamn swamp.He knew he had endless advantages there.In settings like these,he sometimes found himself almost as hampered as a normal person.Well,occasionally. 

They didn't use the parking garage,as there was no real need,and Logan had never liked it:it was too easy to box people in,make them sitting ducks.At least parked outside you were in the open-what you had in vulnerability you made up for in freedom of movement."Where is this meeting?"He asked,as Natsume parked the car (or,as Riko liked to call it,the Sherman tank). 

"Conference room on the fourteenth floor.Hachiro's having his office on the twenty fifth floor redecorated." 

"Again?" 

"No,this is the same one,"she explained,a hint of exasperation in her voice."He fired the other decorator mid-project because he was...well,I'm not going to repeat what he said.Let's just say they had a difference of opinion." 

"Why?'Cause Hachiro's a dick?" 

She tried hard not to laugh,but was unable to hold it in.She patted his knee,and,as soon as she got a hold of herself, admitted,"Something like that,yes."She then gave him a quick kiss,the tip of her tongue just briefly touching his lower lip,a teasing sort of kiss that she knew drove him crazy."You be good.It shouldn't take too long." 

"I'm coming with you." 

"You know what Hachiro thinks." 

"Fuck him."Hachiro was of the opinion that he (or any bodyguard) would unnerve the stockholders.If they were such easily frightened racist bastards,he figured they shouldn't be there anyways. 

"I'd rather not,"she replied humorously,then,reacting to his scowl,said,"What if I cheat and take Nat with me?He's humorless as hell,but I bet he'd make a great human shield." 

That really wasn't funny,but if they couldn't make lame jokes about their sad situation,who could? 

She leaned over then,and whispered,"But if you check out the lobby and maybe come up after me,I can't stop you,can I?"She then gave a quick peck on the ear lobe,and grabbed her briefcase off the floor."See you in ten minutes,     sweetie ." 

He grabbed her hand and kissed it,and held onto it until she got out of the car,her fingertips sliding out of his reach, his eyes holding hers until she shut the car door.He heard her tell Natsume he was coming up with her,which was news to him,but she was the boss,so he left with her. 

Logan watched them walk down the cement path through the dark haze of the tinted windows to the wide glass doors of the building,and then they disappeared inside,out of sight.Natsume had his radio,and he knew enough to call in if there was a problem,but it didn't make him feel any better. 

He got out of the car,taking a moment to thoroughly scan the entire street,one end to the other.It was a cool night, brisk,but all this pavement made the city a heat island,and it was warm enough here that he couldn't even see his breath.He took a deep breath,completing his sensory scan of the area.The air thick with auto exhaust,the lingering traces of people and their cigarette smoke,perfumes and colognes;he could easily separate Mariko's familiar and very recent scent from the crowd. 

But that's when he realized something didn't smell right.He smelled something sharp,like eucalyptus oil,covering something else...but what?The eucalyptus scent was interfering with his ability to parse it out correctly.Which was probably the point,wasn't it? 

He began cautiously stalking around towards the alley on the left hand side of the building,where the eye wateringly strong scent seemed to be coming from.Whoever had decided to skulk there had picked the worst scent possible. 

Only later would it occur to him that it was a trap. 

    8 

Santa Monica-Present Day 

    Robin Hood's presented itself as a sleazy dockside bar housed in the remains of a former factory,an old fish processing warehouse by the smell.Logan envied Bob and Helga their more normal olfactory senses,as they probably weren't picking up the lingering scent of congealing fish guts beneath the typical miasma of bar:beer,cigarette smoke,body odor,desperation of all sorts. 

The front and supposedly 'main' part of  Hood's was dark wood and worn furniture only partially concealed by low lighting,and there were only a few scattered patrons nursing watery beers.They had the intense postures and edema swollen features of career drinkers,and Logan guessed they'd been kicked out of several bars and washed up here,as it was the only place that would take them. 

There was a heavy green velvet curtain concealing the back of the club,and the thumping bass of techno music could heard as well as felt coming through the seemingly thin wood walls.But seemingly was the key word,as Logan couldn't help but notice the sound was directed into the floor.You were supposed to think there was nothing more than a dance floor behind the curtain,but he had at least heard about the Wizard of  Oz,and knew things hidden behind curtains weren't generally what they appeared to be. 

As they made their way to the curtain,Bob tossed a glance at the grizzled looking bartender,thick enough that he probably doubled as bouncer,at least for this part of Hood's,and Bob said,"We aren't here." 

The guy stopped doing whatever he was doing.Logan guessed he was reaching for some sort of internal alarm,to let the pit boss know there was undesirable on the way.To beat Bob you had to be a lot faster than that. 

Throwing back the curtains revealed a metal door,the type you might find on old fashioned cargo ships,and just like in a bad noir film,there was a little rectangular slat cut in the door at approximate eye level.Bob rapped on the door (and judging by the sound it was solid metal),and the slot slid open,revealing a pair of pale grey eyes. 

"What's the word?"The man said,audibly chewing gum with all the grace of a cow working on its cud. 

"I just told you,asshole,"Bob replied."Now let us in." 

The slat closed,and Logan heard the noise of locks like deadbolts being thrown before the goon on the other side opened the door for them. 

Beyond the bouncer was a huge sunken pit,nearly three times as large as the bar,full of slot machines on one end and gambling tables on the other.The familiar burgundy and gold decor theme was echoed here,as was the fake marble pillars that climbed up to the large metal ceiling,which seemed to condense and compress the noise into an almost unbearable cacophony of human voices and electronic clicks,dings,and blares,just like any casino in Vegas.It was pretty crowded too,although no one bothered to look up at them as Bob shouted,as quietly as he could,"We're important people,and the boss wants to see us immediately.Take us there." 

"Come with me,"the man said.He was Samoan,five inches shy of seven feet tall and a canned ham away from three hundred pounds,the buttons of his white shirt barely hanging on and the shoulders of his black jacket a single high five away from popping their seams.He really needed a better tailor. 

As the man led the way down the wide cement stairs to the casino floor,Logan noticed he had words tattooed on the knuckles of his ham sized fists.He expected 'love' and 'hate',but from what he could see,they said 'life' on the right and 'death' on the left.Very cute. 

The bouncer cut through the throng of gamblers like an icebreaker in the Arctic Ocean,and as they followed,Logan did his best to keep scanning the crowd for any hostile or familiar faces,and wondered what it was Bob was hiding from him. 

Since the beginning of this,he had been hiding a lot,but ever since he found out this place was owned by a Yashida, Bob had been especially grim.Logan had a strange,sick feeling that this was all his fault-that if a Yashida had teamed with their sworn blood enemy Takabes (a big if-it was still possible the name was assumed),it was because of him. Something he had done had conquered hate and forged an alliance between the families.In theory that was a good thing-until you realized the families joined together to sell drugs and engage in several activities far from legal and harmless.It made him wonder what he did. 

Hell,they nearly wiped each other out completely on Bloody Friday-how did you forgive someone for something like that? 

Suddenly Logan had a thought that almost made him stop in his tracks.He knew exactly what would unite the families,and what Bob might be hiding from him.Holy shit. 

Bob said he'd help him find answers,but he had also warned him he might not like all the answers he found.Logan now knew he probably didn't want to know how this all played out,because he could guess,and he'd really rather not know.But he did now. 

His skin was crawling because of all the surveillance,but there was no way Bob could hit all the cameras;illegal or not,this place was a casino,and it was lousy with cameras and all sorts of eavesdropping equipment,to keep people from cheating the house before the house could cheat them.It was the main reason he wasn't a big fan of gambling, except for poker.With his enhanced sense,though,it was too damn easy to win. 

Still,he couldn't shake the feeling he had been singled out in this immense crowd,the dead eyes of the cameras focusing on him to the exclusion of all others...but that was just paranoia. 

Right? 

** 

    Haido felt like his legs had been kicked out from under him,and he rather gracelessly collapsed into the empty chair behind him. 

Steve,the security tech currently handling the booth,the virtual wall of monitors showing not only several angles of the casino floor but the private back room games and the outside of the club.But right now,seven different cameras were focused on one man on the casino floor,front,profile,back,overhead,and several other angles.There was absolutely no doubt at all that this was Logan. 

How could there be any doubt?In all these years,he hadn't changed one iota.He hadn't aged,he had barely changed his hair and wardrobe.He wasn't human.He was the devil himself. 

"Why is Lau taking them back towards my office?"Haido asked,barely able to speak. 

"I have no idea.The blue eyed pretty boy said something to him,and he just obeyed.Maybe he's a mutant too.I keep trying to raise Lau through his earpiece,but he's not responding." 

"Don't bother,Logan's friend is probably a telepath,"Haido said glumly.He had heard of those.There were powerful ones out there too,hard to fight against.He needed to separate Logan from the mindfucker and the green girl.He had no idea what her power was,but with her minty hue and tail,it was obvious she was a mutant,and he couldn't risk his perfect plan of vengeance being ruined by some green super bitch. 

"Instigate an emergency lock down,send them by necessity down corridor H-3." 

Steve glanced at him,eyebrow arched high over an eye so pale blue it was almost colorless."But what if Logan gets swept-" 

"Logan won't." 

"How can you be so sure?" 

"Because Logan never does what he's supposed to do,"He said ruefully,speaking from deeply bitter experience. Unconsciously,he reached up and scratched the scars on his face. 

He could have had plastic surgery,he could have had them removed,but he felt it was a mark of his shame,his failure, and he was beholden to keep them.He liked to say it was so he didn't forget the man (the beast) who had done it to him,but truthfully he could have had them all removed and he never would have been able to forget Logan.He'd only stopped having the nightmares ten years ago,and even to this day he still had one every now again. 

That blood streaked face looming over him,lip curled back in a feral snarl,revealing bloody,inhumanly sharp teeth, and his eyes...god have mercy,his eyes... 

Haido just hoped he had enough firepower,because no one ever told you how to stop Satan himself. 

** 

    "What's wrong?"Bob asked the big guy,as he had come to a dead stop. 

The bouncer had led them back into a small warren of dark,metal lined hallways that probably made up the true heart of the casino:security monitors,'private' gaming tables where people gambled away the sum of the entire gross national products of Third World nations,computers,safes,what have you.They smelled of lots of people and cigar smoke and ozone;there was enough electricity being generated here,from various security systems and precautions that Logan could feel hairs on his arms standing on end. 

Some of the doors were covered with steel.No biggie-he could slice through those like butter.But the way the big guy stopped,it was like he was confused. 

"Is this a trap?"Logan asked Bob. 

"You heard him,"Bob said."Answer him." 

"A security lockdown is in effect,"the man said. 

"Were we expected?" 

"I don't know." 

Logan grunted humorlessly.He was just the front door guy;it was possible he was out of the loop. 

"What kind of response should we expect if they sic security on us?"Bob went on. 

"Guards,about a dozen of 'em,armed with super charged tasers and semi-automatic handguns." 

"All humans?" 

"As far as I know." 

Bob smiled,not at all concerned."No problem,then.Is the boss in his office,cowering behind the door?" 

"Probably not." 

"Where would he be?" 

"Security central." 

"Makes sense,"Helga commented. 

"Lead on,"Bob said to the big guy,making a sweeping gesture with his arm.Bob followed directly behind the bouncer, and Logan was on point,leaving Helga sandwiched between them. ("Always a dream of mine,"she had said,giving Logan a lascivious wink.) He kept looking around the dim hallways as they went on,having a bad feeling about all of this. 

Of course,why should he?Whatever he and Helga couldn't handle,Bob could,and vice versa.In theory,they were unbeatable.But then again,so were the X Men,and Legion almost killed them all. 

The bouncer lead them into a wide hallway with few doors,and Logan heard a strange muffled noise.It sounded like...rushing water? 

And there was something wrong with the floor:it felt springy somehow,and the big guy's heavy,thudding footsteps sounded hollow.Logan stopped,as did Helga and Bob.Only the heavy guy continued forward,oblivious and on a mission. 

The three of them had barely made eye contact,tacitly confirming there was something very wrong with all of this, when the entire floor collapsed beneath their feet. 

Logan made a diving lunge for the nearest wall,popping his claws and driving them into the metal wall as the bouncer,Bob,and Helga all fell into a what appeared to be a rushing,man made river fifteen feet below.Dark as ink and churning with white caps,it swallowed them all whole with hardly a splash or a whimper audible over its thunderous roar."Helga!"Logan shouted,trying to figure out how far he could climb down.Maybe he could get low enough to grab them."Bob!" 

But they had gone without a trace.He wondered how deep it was,and if it was just water down there. 

He had made the decision to drop in himself and find out when the metal wings that made up the floor suddenly rose and slammed shut,locking together with a metallic clank just centimeters below his feet.The dark seam in the floor seemed to disappear as he watched. 

"Where are they?!"He roared,jumping back down to the hollow floor.He left his claws out,preparing to rip a hole in the floor and go down after them himself. 

The door at the end of the trick hallway opened,and several men in full body armor,holding tasers that looked like cattle prods,spread out at the mouth of the hall.He then heard a voice say,as if over a loudspeaker,"In a safer place than you,Logan." 

Did he hear just a hint of a Japanese accent in that voice?He was sure he had."Your revenge thing is with me,"he shouted angrily,sizing up the eight men ahead of him.He was pretty sure the armor wasn't adamantium proof,and he wasn't sure those tasers had sufficient juice to take him down.Well,not just one of them.A couple at a time, maybe, but they'd have to get him all at once and be conscious to do it."Leave them the fuck alone." 

"You brought them into this,not me,"the man replied,as the guards began to approach him menacingly as a group. Well,as menacing as they could try and appear to be;in spite of their thick black armor and their reflective black faceplated helmets,Logan found them as terrifying as a bunch of parking valets. 

"Have the courage to face me yourself,Scarface,"he snapped,as he lunged towards the nearest man.Lashing out his claws in tandem,he shattered two different tasers as they were raised to jab him,and planted a solid kick in the midsection of a third man,collapsing his sternum instantly in spite of the armor. 

The man fell backwards and was swallowed by the crowd as the other men charged,and Logan simply slashed out at anything that moved,slicing tasers and body armor,helmets and skin. 


	9. Part 9

He felt several electric stings,the tasers hitting their mark and sending high voltage throughout his body,reverberating off his metal skeleton and caroming down his nerves,and while it hurt like a son of a bitch it wasn't enough to stop him,not yet.He tried not to inflict lethal injuries,because these morons were probably just doing their jobs, 'protecting' their boss,with no real idea of what was actually was going on. 

A taser in the back of his neck hurt like hell,making bright lights explode in his eyes and bringing the heavy metal taste of electricity to his mouth,so he lashed behind him with a claw,shredding the taser,but it felt like the tips of his claws caught briefly on something. 

The guy's face.He screamed horribly as he fell away,and although Logan hadn't meant to do that,he wasn't exactly sorry.Besides,if he could scream,he wasn't dead. 

In a minute and a half that felt like eternity and yet no time at all,the eight men were down for the count,hurt but not dead.He didn't think any of them would be getting up and rejoining the battle any time soon. 

"Is that all ya got?"He shouted,wiping blood (not his) off his face with his forearm.The door at the end of the hallway was closed,so Logan punched a claw through the thin metal plating and ripped an opening big enough for him to pass through."Come on,Scarface,let's settle this once and for all." 

Really what he wanted from the guy was not revenge but answers,but Logan had a sick,angry feeling in his gut that those things would be one and the same. 

There was a blood debt in need of settling.But Logan wasn't sure if it was his,Scarface's,or the both of them.And he was not sure ultimately if he wanted to know. 

But he was sure he was going to end this once and for all,even if he wasn't sure what started it. 

*** 

Tokyo-1981 

    In spite of the eucalyptus stench,Logan thought there was at least one person in the alley,although he couldn't see them yet. 

Then a man came stumbling in from the end of the alley,collapsing onto his knees on the pavement,and he rasped, "Logan,help me." 

Hachiro.Logan remained wary,even as he approached,and thought he smelled blood."Hachiro,what is it?" 

He was half way down the alley when he realized there was now someone behind him,but he didn't turn in time to avoid the sharp,wasp like sting of something puncturing the back of his neck. 

Logan spun on his heels turning in time to see a shadow disappear swiftly,and reached behind his neck and pulled something out.It looked like a small tranquilizer dart,the kind they used to subdue wild animals.He could have laughed-did they really think drugs worked on him?-but then he realized he was starting to feel a strange burning sensation,emanating from the point of impact and spilling down his spine like liquid fire. 

Not drugs-poison. 

He knew Hachiro had gotten up,knew he was behind him,but the fire pouring through his system was slowing him down,so he was only partially turned around when Hachiro stabbed him in the shoulder with a hypodermic needle. He shouted more in irritation than true pain.throwing back a hard elbow that caught the old man solidly under the chin and sent him flying backwards,but also inadvertently broke off the needle deep inside his arm. 

"What the fuck..?"he shouted,wheeling angrily on the fallen Hachiro.But as he took a step forward,the fire seemed to explode in his knee,and his leg folded up beneath him. 

He could now feel the molten fire streaming from the needle point in his shoulder,and he reached up to pull it out, but his fingers had gone numb from the heat,which now felt like it was boiling the blood inside his veins.The pain was overwhelming and indescribable. 

"Hurts,don't it?"Hachiro said smugly,although his own voice betrayed pain.Looking down at him,he saw blood trickling from the man's mouth,and his jaw was at a rather strange angle to the rest of his face.Logan had either dislocated his jaw or broken it outright,but the man was still determined to talk and gloat."I hope so,you fucking mutant bastard." 

Logan was surprised that he knew,but it was hard to care right now.He had collapsed to both knees,feeling as if he was burning from the inside out.He could feel his muscles constricting from the heat,his internal organs swelling to the point of bursting.He tried to take a breath,but he coughed instead,and his own tainted blood filled his mouth. 

Hachiro climbed to his feet,manually trying to reset his own jaw,then grabbed the back of Logan's head and began repeatedly ramming his knee into his face.Logan felt his nose shatter and several teeth break (a real bitch-teeth hurt like hell when they grew back),but on the fifth go he thought he heard something in Hachiro's knee give,and he let him go.Logan fell back hard onto the cold pavement,unable to move or do anything but suffer. 

"You know what's in your system?"Hachiro snapped,pacing slightly,trying to 'walk off' his knee injury as subtly as possible."It's a synthetic poison cooked up by the KGB-" 

'U'ebitsche,' Logan instantly thought,even as it felt like his lungs were shriveling inside his chest and the blood vessels bursting in his brain felt like gunshots in his cranium.Literally translated from Russian it meant freak or monster, because this thing was both:a chemical cross between synthetic coral snake venom and something akin to a hemorrhagic fever virus.He'd heard about it while in the Organization;it was so nasty operatives leaving for Russia demanded cyanide tablets in case they ever ended up in the hands of someone who had it.From what he heard,it basically caused a meltdown of  your internal organs,a painful and long process that was always fatal,although not before you were stark raving mad with pain.There was no antidote,as the KGB saw no point in synthesizing one. 

"-fatal,"Hachiro continued,wiping blood away from his own mouth with the back of his hand."I was told it was even more painful than death by sulfuric acid.I was also told it can take up for an hour for the victim to die while their organs turn to bloody soup.But to be honest,I didn't want to wait that long to watch you die,fuckface,and besides,you're a mutant.So we gave you enough of this shit to kill ten men-you should be dead any minute now."He then stopped his ineffectual pacing and gave him a cold,insincere smile."I hope you appreciate this.It cost me a fortune." 

Logan wanted to do something,anything,from a spit to an obscene gesture,but he was helpless to do anything.He was drowning in his own blood;it clogged his throat and lungs,and he didn't even have the strength to cough. 

He could feel his internal organs rupturing,punches to the gut from the inside out,and the pain was so all consuming and intense he didn't think he could scream even if he were able to.It was a pain beyond pain;it was hell. 

His vision turned red as the blood vessels in his eyes burst,and his hearing began to drown in the laborious thundering of his besieged heart and the blood beginning to fill his ear canals. 

Hachiro spit on him,but since he was in so much agony he had no idea if he hit his target or not-nothing short of a sledgehammer blow was registering now.Hachiro was only visible through a red tinted fog growing redder all the time,his mouth a bloody slash in the pale ivory balloon of his face,rising over him like a specter of his own imminent death."And don't worry about your whore of a wife.She'll be joining you very soon." 

Even though the words sounded faint and far away,in his own mind Logan screamed and tried to force himself to move,to kill this traitorous fucking bastard before he could get anywhere near her,but his body was breaking down, and incapable of  listening to him anymore. 

Suddenly he felt a stabbing pain in his heart,like an ice pick had been slowly shoved through it,or a bullet had hit it in slow-mo,the pellet incrementally bursting through the skin and expanding,shredding tissue and arteries at an almost glacial pace.And then it just stopped:both the pain and his heart. 

'Mariko,'Logan howled inside his own mind,hoping that somehow in his desperation he would turn telepathic for a millisecond in his life and she would hear him,and know to leave now and stay as far from Hachiro as possible. 

He tried to will himself to live,to keep going long enough to kill this motherfucker,but his vision flooded completely red before fading to black,and Logan died knowing he had failed her,which was the worst thing of all. 

** 

    Hachiro kicked him hard in the ribs,just to make sure,but Logan didn't move at all. 

Was the freak finally dead? 

His eyes were probably open,but it was really hard to tell considering they were as red as rubies,and blood trickled from the corners like visceral tears.Blood also ran in rivulets from his nose and had spilled over from his mouth,but the blood didn't look to be flowing anymore,a sure sign of death.It was a pretty grisly death too,all things considered.  
It was about goddamn time. 

He started away,staggered,and had to stop,cursing.He hadn't dislocated his kneecap on that freak's face,had he?God knew his jaw hurt like fuck;he had at least dislocated that,although he had been able to pop it back into place (wasn't the first time his jaw had been dislocated),still hurt too fucking much.Only a mutant could hurt him even when he was getting the living shit beaten out of him. 

The synthetic poison had been Yamura's idea,and he knew he'd have to hurry up if he wanted to see that mutant fucker of a niece get hers.Yamura was a supposed 'ninja' who had spent too many weeks on his ass,supposedly 'studying' Logan to decide on the best method of attack.Yamura had finally come to the brilliant conclusion that a full frontal physical assault on Logan was 'unwise' (no fucking kidding),and the best idea was an ambush,playing on Logan's natural inclination to help people who seemed to be in obvious trouble.He also suggested using the deadliest poison known to mankind-at the moment,anyways;somebody was always working on something new-since knives, guns,swords,and all other conventional weapons seemed pointless to use against him. 

He'd cost too much money,but it had been worth it to bring this freak down. 

As he walked away,he turned back to make sure nothing had changed.It hadn't.Logan remained inert in a small pool of his own blood,laying on the floor of the alley like the garbage he was.He wished he had thought to bring a camera. 

Now,all he had to do was get rid of Mariko,and the Yashida empire was rightfully his,as it should have been all along. 

Hachiro limped out of the alley,trying to bang his kneecap back into place with his fist,and never saw the sudden, spasmodic twitch of Logan's arm as his immune system launched an assault against the poison in his blood. 

**** 

Santa Monica-Present Day 

    There was more resistance along the way,but nothing Logan couldn't handle.Still,his head was ringing from that gun shot pumped into his head at fairly close range.The bullet just bounced off his adamantium skull and ricocheted back into the man who had tried to blow his head off,but the impact was like a mule kick and sent him reeling for a few seconds.Maybe the bullet couldn't splatter his brains all over the wall,but the force still hurt like a son of a bitch. 

Logan would have sworn this place didn't seem this large on the outside,but the back of the casino seemed to devolve into a large tangle of  supposedly aimless and occasionally dead end corridors,although Logan was sure some of this was due to the 'lockdown' the big guy had mentioned.He sniffed the recycled,machine cooled air carefully,trusting his nose to lead him to the right place and the right person. 

It had led him to a hallway narrower and darker than the rest,that smelled of not only a lot of human passage but the recent passage of a woman,which he hadn't scented before in this complex.He bet he knew which woman too. 

As if on cue,a silky cool woman's voice (with just a trace of a San Fernando Valley accent) said,"That's far enough, Sasquatch." 

She appeared at the end of the hall.A slip of a girl,short and slender,she wore black leather pants and a red tank top, exposing stick thin arms,and a tattoo on her left bicep:a flaming skull.Nice to know she didn't advertise. 

She was attractive in a delicate sort of way,her shoulder length black hair as glossy as a panther's pelt,her golden hazel eyes betraying the delicate tilt of her surely Eurasian heritage.And if she was over eighteen he was a Smurf. 

"I don't wanna hurt you,darlin',"he warned her."But I will if you don't get outta my way." 

She smiled,but in a feral,coldly amused sort of way."Oh,I don't think so,Hairy.Don't you know sideburns have been out like forever?" 

"And don't you know the whole fire thing has been done to death?"He replied sarcastically. 

Her narrow brows dropped low over her eyes as she scowled at him."Do you really think you have a chance of getting past me?I ain't no dumb ass soldier boy." 

"And neither am I,Emma,"he said,deciding to use her real name.She flinched,and the surprise was visible on her face,no matter how quickly she tried to smother it."Why work for this guy?Do you know who he is?Do you care?" 

"I know that you're a cold blooded murderer,"she snarled,with surprising anger. 

He raised an eyebrow at her."I can say the same thing about you,honey." 

"Demons don't count,"she replied flippantly. 

"What about the people who got caught in that house you burned up in Bel Air?You gonna tell me they were all demons?" 

"They were drug dealers,"she said with a shrug."They got what they deserve." 

"And your boy is what-sellin' candy?"He scoffed derisively."You got a justification for everythin',don't ya?" 

Her eyes narrowed,the hate in her eyes surprisingly intense since he had never met her before."I guess it runs in the family,huh?" 

He stared at her,not getting that at all.Was she really a Yashida?A Takabe?"Who are you?"He asked,confused. 

"Aren't you dying to know?"she replied coldly,and slammed her hands against the walls on either side of the hallway. 

Before he could react,the entire corridor exploded into flame. 

    9 

Tokyo-1981 

    Mariko couldn't shake the sense that something was wrong,even though Natsume seemed to act as though everything was fine. 

Maybe it was just that the building was so quiet.It wasn't usual for workers in Japan to have a long vacation,but she thought they could all use a break on behalf of the new year.And it would be a new year for everyone at Yashida Consolidated in more ways than one:for once,they wouldn't have to juggle the books to cover up the more shady parts of the business.For once,they could actually be legal. 

The fourteenth floor was actually lit up,a change from the lower floors,but as they stepped out of the elevator she noticed how deadly quiet it was.It was so sterile in here,partitions of white particle board and plexiglass separating the nests of cubicles that made up the majority of the floor,only the occasional potted plant gave the office any semblance of life.She really was going to have to work on doing something about that. 

Her heels clicking on the hard white floor sent chills up her own spine,and she slowed her pace so Natsume could keep up.She didn't know why,she just hoped Logan showed up soon.She just felt safer whenever he was around. 

The florescent lighting was autopsy room bright,glaring off all the clean white surfaces,and she found herself wondering if a little color would kill anybody.I mean,just a little blue and green,maybe even a daring shot of yellow,wouldn't hurt,would it? 

The conference room did have the benefit of coloring from the ash colored wood paneling on the wall,and the long, dark pine conference table,but even the carpet was beige,continuing a brown theme that seemed depressing.No happy mediums for Yashida:either sterile enough for an operating room or as depressing as a cheap bar. 

The most surprising thing was the room was empty,save for Jason,her assistant,who was just hanging up the phone as she came in."Where is everybody?"She asked him,looking around curiously.Okay,this was so very wrong. 

"Well,Eichi and Akio are supposedly stuck at the airport-delayed flight-Katsumi is supposedly caught in traffic,and Sadaharu is on vacation,"Jason began,pushing his black rimmed glasses up from the bridge of his nose.He was an American exchange student,although Japanese by race:his parents thought some exposure to the 'homeland' would be good for him.He was a great assistant,because he was a bright,eager to please college student,and he had no problems at all with a woman giving him orders."Hachiro's driver just called to say he's on his way up.But here's a weird thing:I just called Mitsuo at home,and he said this is the first he's heard of a stockholder's meeting." 

She had just placed her briefcase on the rectangular table,and exchanged a curious look with him,not ready to let go of the case's handle.She had a sudden,paranoid feeling that maybe they should just call this off...if it was ever on. "Was it possible his secretary forgot to mention it to him?" 

Jason shrugged,his dark blue tie hanging askew,as he had tied it badly and it was far too long for him.Kids could be so endearingly awkward at times."Maybe,but since when has Misako not been completely anal-er,efficient?" 

That was very good point.Misako ran Mitsuo's office like a slave driver,as if she was the boss,not him (and in a way, that was very true)."Maybe we should forget the whole thing-"she started to say,but then the door opened behind her, making her jump and pivot instantly on her heels. 

Her hope that it was Logan died quickly,as it was Hachiro who walked in the door.He looked around,confused,and asked,"Where is everybody?" 

But he was a bad liar.In that instant,she knew he hadn't expected to see anyone at all.No one except her. 

"What was the point of this-"she began angrily,rather tired of his bullshit,when two things that happened almost simultaneously stopped her in her tracks.First,she noticed Hachiro had stains on the knee of one grey pant leg:wet and dark,it could have been oil or ink.But she had seen it enough on Logan to know it was blood.There were spots of it on his other leg as well,and spatters on his grey shirt that managed to look more crimson. 

The next thing that happened was she heard a sickening crack,like someone had just broken a table leg.But when she turned to look,she saw Jason drop to the floor like a stone,one of his limp arms hitting the edge of the table as he fell,knocking the phone to the carpet with him.And Natsume just stood there watching. 

Natsume. 

"It's over,Mariko,"Hachiro said,sounding very pleased with himself ."Even your mutant fuck of a husband can't save you now." 

She knew in that moment that not only was Natsume a traitor who had just killed Jason,but the blood on Hachiro's clothes was Logan's.Her rage was instantaneous,blinding,and she suddenly wished she had thought to bring the gun.  
With a roar of anger,she spun around quickly,grabbing her briefcase off the table,and smashed Hachiro right across the face with it. 

He let out an incoherent cry of surprise and pain and staggered back,and that's when she noticed he seemed to be favoring his blood stained leg.She kicked out at it,letting her heel really dig into the kneecap.He screamed in pain and collapsed to the floor,and she felt savagely pleased with herself.Did he really think he could hurt Logan and not get hurt himself? 

Logan...oh no... 

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Natsume charging for her,and she gave him a solid kick in the groin that instantly doubled him over,but she didn't stay to gloat.She bolted out of the room,stopping briefly to rip off her shoes and throw them aside,as they were only going to slow her down.If that bastard had killed Logan (No,he couldn't be dead.He was hard to kill,right?He couldn't be dead...) she would kill him.She'd come back and splatter Hachiro from one end of Tokyo to another. 

She was half way down the hall when gunshots rang out,one bullet hitting the wall and throwing out splinters that just narrowly missed her face,but she didn't stop running.She couldn't;her only thought now was to get to Logan,and make sure he was all right."No,goddamn it,she isn't supposed to-"she heard Hachiro curse,as another two gun shots rang out,but she didn't think these two were anywhere near her. 

She dove almost gratefully into the elevator,and instantly hit the button for the lobby,warily glancing out from the side before the elevator doors closed,but neither of them followed,and there were no further shots.She found herself wondering what Hachiro was saying:"She isn't supposed to..." what?Die?It was pretty damn obvious he wanted her dead,so that couldn't be it. 

He wanted both her and Logan dead.She desperately hoped he had not succeeded in at least one case. 

She was half way to the lobby,her heart trip hammering in her chest as the reality of the situation began to really sink in,and she hit the emergency stop button,making the elevator seize up and setting off alarm bells.There was someone waiting for her in the lobby;that's why Hachiro and Natsume didn't bother to come after her.And that person was bound to be waiting for her to come out of the elevator. 

There was an emergency release inside the elevator panel,and she pulled it,making the doors gasp apart,although not by much.She still had to dig her fingers into the small gap between the doors and use all her strength to pry one open, and then she hoped she wasn't so hopelessly trapped between floors she'd have to start the elevator up and take her chances at stopping it at the right spot. 

No,she got lucky,if you could call anything tonight 'lucky';she could see the next floor at the mid level of the elevator, a few inches above her head.She'd have to climb out,but tonight she was reasonably certain she could do what she had to do to survive,and reach Logan.If he was dead...no,she couldn't think like that right now.She just mentally told herself to do what she had to do,no matter the cost. 

She reached up,grabbed the lip of the floor,and pulled herself into the unlit hallway.If there was someone waiting for her,it would have been an opportune time to kill her,but the fifth floor was dark and empty.As soon as she had wormed her way between the gap in the elevator doors,she turned around,belly down on the carpet,and reached inside the elevator again,groping blindly for the panel.Finally she hit the right button and quickly shoved herself away,so her arm didn't get caught in the closing doors.It wouldn't be much of a distraction,but if a moment was all she could get,she'd take it.All they had to do was think she was still in the elevator for a few seconds,and she might have a shot at getting out of here alive. 

There were no back exits,sadly,and even if there were she was sure they were covered.This whole thing had been a set up to kill her and Logan,and she was sure Hachiro,dickhead or not,had covered all the bases.She would have to get out through the lobby no matter which way she got down;she would just have to hope she could catch him out of position enough she could sneak out,or,worst comes to worst,get the drop on him.Were they so thick they didn't realize Logan had taught her a thing or two about defending herself?Not enough as far as he was concerned,but she had been complacent,always assuming her big strong bear would be there to protect her.And that's why Hachiro split them up,right?Damn it;inadvertently,she had played right into his hands. 

As she pelted down the emergency fire stairs,she quietly swore she'd let Logan teach her any martial art he wanted,as long as he was still alive and all right.He had to be all right,he simply had to be.She couldn't imagine life without him. 

** 

    Logan came to coughing up tainted blood,his body feeling like it had been torn apart and inexpertly sewn back together.The pain inside him was so deep it was like he had swallowed a grenade. 

He rolled over onto his side and spit out more blood and broken teeth,some of which felt like it was congealing in his throat,feeling like he was full of broken glass,and for a moment he had no memory of what had happened.He figured he lost a hell of a fight,or maybe got hit by a bullet train and dragged for several miles,but as he rested on his side, taking a number of deep breaths (it felt as if someone had been trying to suffocate him),he suddenly remembered what had happened. 

Hachiro...Mariko.Oh god no. 

He had no idea how long he had been out,but he didn't think for long;he hurt too much,he was still healing.Which was good in a way,but bad because he hurt so much he didn't think he could stand just yet.But he tried-he tried to get up on his hands and knees and simply collapsed,feeling like red hot pokers had been driven deep into his gut. 

Logan briefly curled up into a fetal position,arms wrapped protectively around his stomach as he could feel his organs healing,blood vessels and capillaries knitting back together,blood starting to roar through his veins and trying to replace all that had been lost,while his eyes itched almost unbearably as all the blood vessels repaired themselves. 

He tried to speak,but his throat was still repairing itself,and all he could manage was a painful croak. 

If Hachiro hurt her,if he left as much as a goddamn bruise on her,he would kill him. 

Even though it felt like he was dragging himself across hot,jagged rocks,he began to pull himself forward on his elbows,gritting his new and still sore teeth against the pain,and as soon as he made it to the nearest wall,he used it to pull himself to his feet.They almost didn't want to hold his weight,and he could still feel those sharp slivers like glass in his blood as his consciousness wavered,draining the world of all its color and almost all its light,but he found his rage.A molten space within his own mind and body,it filled in for the strength he didn't have,and made him put one foot in front of the other even though he really just wanted to collapse and rest a while longer. 

Anger kept him going,ignoring the pain of his own continued healing process,compensating from the weakness of blood loss,and by the time he was within sight of Yashida Consolidated,he felt almost normal,the rage coursing through his veins like new,supercharged blood. 

Even though the scent of his own blood clogged his nose,he sniffed the air and determined he was alone,at least for now,and he stalked down the cement path,not capable of running yet but on the verge.He tensed as one of the smokey glass doors of  the building swung open,but was instantly relieved to see it was Mariko,without her shoes but otherwise looking okay. 

"Logan,"she said breathlessly,the relief obvious in her voice. 

"Mariko,"he managed to say,finally able to speak.Oh god,he got to her in time;she was safe.He felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders,something that had been threatening to pulverize him where he stood. 

She suddenly pitched forward,and he barely caught her in time,holding her limp body up in his arms.And only then, as her head lolled against the side of his neck,did he see the tranquilizer dart in the back of her shoulder. 

*** 

Santa Monica-Present Day 

    The trap door was a shock,as was the cold and slightly polluted water,but Bob was honestly impressed.Absolutely no one used them anymore,which made it a very effective snare/deterrent.He really had to get one put in at the Way Station.Well,if they lived through this. 

The cold,slightly smelly water,probably routed in from the harbor,swept them relentlessly towards a wrought iron grate that Bob slammed against face first,with the rather heavy bouncer slamming up behind him,but Helga managed to have the presence of mind to avoid him altogether. 

The dark water sluiced over their heads through the grate,leaving them behind like large detritus in a sewer filtering system.They were probably supposed to drown,and the water was probably being routed through some sort of  hydraulic pump,as it felt like a quarter ton of water was bearing down on them,trying to crush them through the grate like a sieve.He reached out and touched the bouncer and then Helga,communicating that they had more than enough air,as well as ten times the strength of normal humans (and demons).It was important that they not panic,as that would instantly lead to drowning,and it was hard enough to keep himself from remembering not to drown.It was harder to fool himself,but he could do so if he concentrated enough. 

On cue,the three of them grabbed one of the iron cross beams of the grate,planted their feet firmly against the cement wall which held the grate and funneled the water underneath the casino and into the harbor,and began to pull.It was hard,what with the water pushing against their backs,but the extra strength they all thought they had helped a lot. It was a shame Logan wasn't here,as his claws could probably slice through the three inch thick metal like tissue paper,but that had been the point,hadn't it?Someone-Takabe or Yashida-wanted Logan alone,possibly realizing the threat Bob posed to them.But,in a way,facing Logan was a worse proposition,at least for the security team.If Bob encountered them,they'd be confused but fine;meeting Logan alone,they'd probably be barfing blood,if they were lucky. 

On the second try,as Bob was trying desperately to ignore the fresh hot pain in his lungs (they'd been without air for what,almost five minutes now?),the grate finally started to give at one point,mortar and concrete crumbling away, and from then on the water did the job,the pressure eating away at the weakened joining point,and finally the grate gave way,washing both it and them forward,down into yet another dark tunnel. 

This one finally rushed out into dark,deep,and colder water,and Bob was reasonably sure he recognized the sea floor off the Santa Monica pier. 

The three of them instantly swam up towards the surface,and as they broke the calm black water,they all gasped in lungfuls of air,grateful for it even if it did smell just a little too much of the L.A. basin. 

"Good job,hon,"Helga said finally,her tail snaking around his waist as they bobbed in the water.She must have figured out what he had done. 

"Well,I didn't survive this long and come all this way just to drown in a sewer access pipe,"he told her,treading water.They weren't far from the nearest pier,maybe less than a quarter mile out,and the far Southern edge of the building containing Robin Hood's was just visible from here. 

"What's your boss's name?"Bob asked the bouncer,whose name had so many redundant vowels just referring to him as 'Big Guy' seemed acceptable. 

"Haido Takabe,"he replied,floating placidly.Bob had never quite let him go,and that seemed for the best. 

"Why does he hate Logan?Because he disfigured him on Bloody Friday?" 

"Who's Logan?"The big guy replied. 

So the big guy was left completely out of the loop.He was just a lackey then."Is there a back route to your boss's hiding place in there?" 

The big guy had to think about it for a moment as the three of them gently bobbed in the water like the world's strangest buoys."Maybe." 

"We'll swim to the pier,"Bob told him."Once we're back on land,you'll lead us there." 

The big guy nodded,then began breast stroking towards the nearest pier. 

"I like night swimming as much as the next girl,but this is ridiculous,"Helga said sardonically,giving him a tired smile. 


	10. Part 10

"We have too much fun,"he agreed,beginning his languid swim towards the rickety wooden pier,which jutted out into the water like someone's half hearted attempt to lure in sailors too drunk to realize it wasn't a real mooring spot. 

He just hoped Logan was still all right,and not a charcoal briquette. 

** 

    The flames that exploded from the walls was an intense blue-white,the heat twice as intense than the beach house explosion,and as the ceiling caught,the sprinklers went off,melting even as they rained water down on flames too intense to quench. 

Logan could smell his hair singing,knew his exposed skin was blistering,and was certain his clothes would start burning,but he hoped that little girl didn't think becoming the human torch was enough to stop him now. 

Even as the wet floor began to burn,Logan charged her with a roar of anger,running full force at her even as he felt some of his skin start to burn,and he saw the smug look on her face turn to shock,her eyes wide with sudden fear.She had expected a retreat,not some fucking some nut willing to chance the fire. 

Fists out,aware some of the dribbling water was sizzling on his own claws,he retracted them the second before he collided with her,burning the flesh inside his hands even as his naked fists slammed into her chest,just a millimeter or two beneath her collarbone so he didn't shatter it into dust. 

The impact was hard,and nothing she was prepared for:she flew backwards,literally knocked off her feet,and collided with the wall of the connecting corridor hard enough to leave a serious dent in the metal.She didn't slide to the floor more than plummet,so unconscious he bet she'd be out until the next election (lucky her). 

The warm water spewing from the melted and mangled sprinklers had put him out for the most part,save for a few smoldering bits,but even more of his jeans had been burnt away,and he now knew what Bob had gone through:most of the back of his shirt was gone (and most of the skin underneath),and the left side was all but burnt away,which made a certain amount of sense since he was closest to that side of the hall.But now he had some bizarro half shirt deal going on,where it only covered the right half of his torso (and only in the front),and he wondered why he left his leather jacket in Bob's car.He might not have been burned at all;well,on the chest and back at any rate. 

His skin itched like mad as it grew back over the burned spots,and he could feel that deep,hot tingle on the back of his neck,climbing up his scalp,making him wonder how much of his hair actually got burned off.No matter;it'd be back soon enough.It always was. 

The sprinklers finally died,to mangled to be helpful anymore,but the flames had all but burnt themselves out,as there wasn't a lot of flammable material to begin with,and their 'master' was down for the count anyways. 

He stepped over her as he walked down the flame free hallway,tempted to stop and search her for some i.d. to figure out who she really was,but that didn't matter.All that mattered was following the scent he had caught earlier,and in spite of it all,he caught it again."Got anything else,genius?"He snapped,assuming he was being watched. 

Until he got some answers,not even burning him alive was enough to stop him. 

** 

    "Holy motherfucking Christ,did you see that?"Steve exclaimed,almost bounding up from his chair."How the hell did he do that?I mean,fuck,look how burned he is,but he's still walking!" 

"He's not human,"Haido said,feeling almost faint.He was so sure Emma could toast that freak,but she had been arrogant and misjudged him completely.It was now time to leave,and execute plan B. 

"Yeah,he's mutant,but so fucking what?So's Hellion.And yeah,she can burn like that,but she doesn't get hurt.He's not a fire guy,so what's his deal?" 

"That's a question I've pondered for many years,"he admitted,getting up from his chair.He could see Logan,half his clothes burned away but his skin seemingly flowing over red patches where the dermal layer had been stripped away by heat and flames,and it had not slowed him down.He could see the mongrel gene trash coming for him at seven different angles on the monitor screens. 

"Could you be mistaken?Could he be a demon?" 

Haido almost laughed,but couldn't quite manage.Logan had haunted too many of his nightmares for years,and that was before he knew for certain that the bastard was still alive.He hated the irony of a powerful man such as himself even being slightly scared of mutant cur such as him."I think he's the father of all demons,"he said,meaning it figuratively if not exactly literally. 

The one thing he knew was that everything that had a pulse,mutant or not,could die.Something could kill Logan permanently.He just had to narrow it down to what in a very short period of time. 

    10 

Tokyo,Japan-1981 

    "No,"Logan gasped breathlessly,feeling like all the wind had been knocked out of him by a wrecking ball.This couldn't be happening,it could not."No."He couldn't stand anymore,his knees were starting to buckle,and all the strength seemed to bleed out of him. 

He dropped to his knees on the hard cement,hardly even noticing it,shifting her in his arms so he could see her face, and would be more comfortable- 

(-more comfortable?She was dying a centimeter at a time,her internal organs beginning to rupture as he could do nothing but watch-) 

-and as she looked up at him,he could already see the glaze of pain in her deep brown eyes."I never even saw him," she gasped,a thin line of blood starting to trickle from both nostrils. 

He cradled her head in his arm and gently kissed her forehead,trying to swallow back sobs that were fighting to get out,desperately trying to blink back tears that stung his eyes worse than the poison ever had.He was suddenly ice cold, and felt like he was going into shock even though he knew his body would never allow that to happen.But that was just physical shock;he didn't know if emotional shock counted. 

He knew he should say something,anything,but he didn't know what.No,that wasn't completely true.He buried his face in her neck,smelling both her Opium perfume (she loved the irony) and now her blood,feeling as well as hearing her pulse in her throat growing erratic as the poison relentlessly coursed through her bloodstream,burning everything it touched."Oh god Mariko,I'm so sorry,"he whispered,a strangled sob making his voice break right down the middle. 

He felt her hand on the back of his neck,her skin far too warm (oh god she was burning from the inside out),and she said,clearly struggling for every word,"I love you,Logan." 

He wanted to scream,but it came out as a shuddering sob,the pain inside him now ten thousand times worse,and he suddenly wished he could take her place.Could he?Maybe if he had died and stayed dead she wouldn't have to die...it didn't make any sense,but nothing made sense right now.There was no sense in Mariko dying a hideous death,and him being helpless to do anything about it.There had to be something he could do.The one goddamn thing he could offer her was a solution,an escape...so why couldn't he do it now? 

He had failed her.He had failed her and now he was going to watch the woman he loved die. 

"I love you,"he said,trying desperately not to cry.He felt like he was dying too,or at least would have been better off dead.Better dead than to live to see this. 

He felt her body stiffen,seize in pain,and the urge to scream came back again.This couldn't be happening.This was somewhere beyond his worst nightmares,somewhere south of hell,and he found himself trying to mentally bargain with a deity he never believed in.He would believe in anything,he would do anything if only this was not happening. If only she could be saved. 

"Logan,"she gasped,and he could hear the blood bubbling in her throat. 

He looked down at her face,unable to stop the tears,and she was so pale,blood gushing from her nose,trickling now from the corner of her flushed,crimson lips,the whites of her eyes showing the first red pinpricks of burst blood vessels around the wide rims of her dark irises."Logan,my love,"she said,struggling hard for every word."Do this for me." 

She grabbed his hand,closed it into a fist,and put it to her chest,around the area of her heart.It took him a moment to understand what she meant,and when he did his own heart seemed to stop. 

"No,"he cried,anguished,tears streaming down his face and narrowly missing falling onto her.But even as he said it he knew it might be the last escape he could offer her,the only way out of this hellish,torturish death. 

"Please,"she said,almost gagging on a fresh gout of blood that ran out the corners of her mouth. 

Oh god.She was in so much pain,he couldn't watch her suffer,and yet...he couldn't,not her... 

He held her tight,feeling her skin radiating heat like the sun,too damn warm,and he could feel the spasms deep inside her body as organs and muscles ruptured,ticced,failed.He couldn't stop the sobs,which felt like they were being ripped out of the very pit of his soul,if freaks like him had a soul.He didn't know,and he didn't care.If he loved her, he would do this. 

He kissed her lips,tasting her tainted blood,smelling the poison on her breath,and a single tear trickled from the corner of her eye,a diffused pink due to blood.That did it."I'll always love you,Mariko,"he told her,trying not to sob, as he placed his fist over her left breast and popped his claws. 

They severed the aorta and main ventricle on impact,killing her instantly.She was dead before the tips of his claws punched through her back. 

Only then did Logan scream,a howl that felt purgatorial,like it was emanating from the very pit of the soul he didn't quite have,anguish and rage so intertwined as to be indistinguishable. 

It seemed to echo off the glass and steel of the buildings around him,and for a moment he could almost believe the entire city was screaming right along with him. 

He had no idea when he actually stopped;his throat was raw and bloody,although not for long.It was never for long with him,was it?Nothing was ever long;freaks like him just didn't stay dead,even when the world was better off without them. 

He held her tightly in his arms,believing for a moment she was still alive...she was,she was,she was just asleep,that's all...but he couldn't ignore the smell of her poisoned blood (he could still taste it) or the all too familiar stench of death.She was so warm,and now she seemed so cold... 

Something in Logan just died.He didn't know what,or even when,but he felt empty,and he realized there was  
nothing left in him at all.He was a hollow man,devoid of all substance and reason and meaning. 

And that was all that was necessary for the beast to come out. 

It was Logan who gently laid Mariko down on the ground,but it was Wolverine who got up and started the hunt. 

** 

    He didn't know how she knew,but that fucking bitch had probably broken his kneecap for sure.Or tore something. 

All Hachiro knew was he needed Natsume,once he'd gotten over his own bruised balls,to help him to the elevator and otherwise walk him to the car parked around back.Yamura was gone to wherever the hell,trying to be some sneaky,pretentious 'Ninja' sort,but he hit his target-or so he said.Since he had a thing about lying,he was inclined to believe him. 

He really wanted to stick around and watch the bitch die,but Natsume had clued him in on the conversation her pussy whipped assistant had had with Mitsuo-he was so paranoid he was probably on his way with his bodyguards and his son-in-law on the police force.Mitsuo only trusted himself,therefore he could be trusted by no one else. 

He was Yamura's next project. 

Hachiro settled in the back of his sedan,imported and probably one of the biggest cars on the road in all of Japan,but worth it:just one look and people knew how powerful and wealthy he had to be.He was just settling in,grateful for the car's wide back seat so he could prop his aching leg up-shit,he was going to need a doctor-when he heard the scream. 

Even Natsume stopped and looked around.It was loud and painfully enraged-and close-and barely sounded human.It was an eerie banshee wail that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.Was it human?Well,it had to be,because there were no animals that sounded like that,inside Tokyo or out. 

Konichi,his driver,sat up straighter,as if someone had just shoved a cattle prod right up his ass."What the fuck was that?"He asked,sounding genuinely frightened. 

Natsume got in on the passenger side,next to Konichi."Logan's dead,right?" 

"Of course he is,"he snapped,trying to position his leg in a way to make it hurt less.That turned out to be impossible: it throbbed like a misplaced phantom heartbeat. 

"Then it can't be Yamura getting his,"he opined,not apparently offended by Hachiro's angry tone."Did anyone give a fuck about Mariko?" 

Hachiro barely had to think about it."Not that I know of." 

Natsume grunted noncommittally,petering out,having no further guesses to make.It had not been hard to make him switch sides;he had never liked Logan,but when he was told he was a mutant he couldn't wait to see him dead.Some mutant had killed his brother or something like that. 

"Maybe it's an angry ghost,"Konichi said,half joking and half serious. 

"Yeah,comin' to eviscerate you,"Natsume teased,giving him a hard slap on the shoulder."Just start the fuckin' car." 

Konichi did as he was told,and Hachiro thought he saw movement somewhere beyond the black tinted windows,but since it was night and not very well lit until Konichi turned on the headlights,he couldn't be sure. 

Until it was too late. 

The driver's side window exploded,and before Konichi could utter more than a startled yelp,a hand grabbed him and yanked him violently through the newly shattered bulletproof glass.If he made any other noises at all,they were lost in a loud crack of bone. 

Natsume had pulled his gun and started shooting,nearly deafening them both,and as the stench of cordite filled the car,the entire front windshield was shattered as Konichi's body slammed through it at hurricane force,sending glass flying throughout the vehicle.Shatterproof glass. 

"Holy fuck!"Natsume exclaimed,as he struggled to get the body of Konichi out of the way of his gun.Then they both saw a figure standing between the beams of the headlights of the car. 

Logan. 

"No,"Hachiro gasped,unable to believe his own eyes."You're dead.You're dead!" 

Dried blood caked the lower half of his face,clotted in his beard,and the streaks of bloody tears lined his face like war paint.But his nose was no longer broken,and his eyes were no longer bloody...oh god,his eyes.If they were almost glowing with rage,Hachiro could have understood that,but that wasn't the case at all.Logan's eyes weren't just full of hate,but cold and dead;the lights were on,but no one was home.Well,nothing human anyways. 

He thought Logan looked like an animal before,but he was wrong.He looked like a animal now,and it was all he could do not to lose control of his bladder."Drive!"Hachiro shouted to Natsume."Damn it man,do it!" 

But before Natsume could even begin to slide over to the driver's side,Logan jumped up on the car with more speed and animal grace than he ever would have credited the man with and punched Natsume in the face...and blood seemed to explode out the back of Natsume's skull with a sort of a wet,hollow thunk,like a clever cutting through a melon.Hachiro felt his warm blood splatter on his face as he groped in blind panic for the door handle. 

It felt like his mind was shutting down in pure shock:Logan was dead.This didn't make sense,he watched Logan die-and yet somehow he just punched Natsume so hard he put his fist through his entire face. 

Hachiro got the door open and tried to step out,but his leg collapsed beneath his weight and he ended up on his hands and knees,instantly vomiting up bile and the half digested remains of his dinner.He didn't know if it was from the pain in his leg,the fear,or the grotesquerie of what he had just seen Logan do to Natsume. 

He could not move fast enough,and besides,Logan was beyond inhuman if he somehow came back to life.So he was disappointed but not surprised that Logan's cold,bloody hand grabbed him by the collar of his coat and threw him back so hard into the car the his head shattered the rear passenger window on impact. 

His consciousness faded out to a pleasant blackness even as he was dimly aware of blood running down his neck from his shredded scalp,but suddenly he felt himself hauled up to his feet again,and he was hit hard enough across the face to jostle him back to consciousness,and he knew he was going to suffer a long and unpleasant death. 

So he did the only thing he could think to do-talk."Kyoshi wanted you both dead,"he rasped,the sour taste of vomit still clogging his throat.He hated to open his eyes,although it was dark and his vision was blurry,because he didn't want to even look at the nightmare that had him in its clutches.But he did,and found himself looking into eyes so cold and wild and full of hate that he knew that whatever he had done to Logan,he had driven him mad.All the sanity in him,whatever he had,had died instead of his body,but he still remembered the man who had tried to kill him,and now he was going to return the favor."It was him,I was just taking care of things for him-" 

"Who did it?"Logan growled,and his voice seemed gravelly and inhuman,his voice scraped raw.Only then did he realize that the scream they had heard was him,and that even when he wasn't speaking,he was growling low in his throat like a dog.He was even more of a savage,of an animal,than he had ever imagined in his wildest nightmares. 

"K-Kyoshi,"he stammered,smelling a strong urine scent and figuring he had pissed himself,but he was surprised his bladder held out this long."I told-" 

Logan slammed him back against the body of the car,shaking him as if he was nothing more than a rag doll.Hachiro had heard Logan was a strong man,but he had no idea he was this strong.He heard some of his bones snap,but he was in such a state of shock he didn't quite feel the pain,not yet. 

"Who killed her?Who did you hire?"He snarled,his words reverting back to animalistic growls at the end,his upper lip curling and revealing a canine tooth just a little bit sharper than human norm.It was stained with blood,and Hachiro idly wondered if it was Logan's blood,or if Logan had ripped out Konichi's throat with his teeth.He never did see how he killed him.Logan was panting like a marathon sprinter after a race,and all Hachiro could smell was blood. 

"Kill me and you'll never find out,"Hachiro said,taking a stab in the dark. 

It looked like Logan was going to punch him in the shoulder,and he did,but he felt a sharp pain on impact,heard a strange noise,and suddenly his arm felt so light,a dull ache at the shoulder socket the only pain.Hachiro looked down at a strange wet noise,and saw an arm laying on the ground beside him. 

It took him a long,surreal moment to realize it was his arm.He recognized the watch still on his wrist. 

It was then he realized dazedly that there was something sticking out of Logan's fist-it looked like a knife blade,three knife blades,made of ivory instead of metal,and he thought it was some sort of spiked brass knuckles,only since when were they made of ivory?And why did it look as if the knives were sticking straight out of his fist,through his skin?  
So that's how he drove his fist through Natsume's face. 

"Wrong answer,"Logan growled,blood dripping from the knives in his fist. 

Maybe it was massive blood loss,but he wasn't terribly surprised by any of this,nor was he scared anymore.Logan was going to slice him up like a pizza until he got what he wanted,and keep him alive as long as possible.Worse than sudden death was a long,drawn out death,which was what he tried to give both Logan and Mariko.He never liked irony. 

"Yamura,a self styled ninja,"he said faintly,no longer caring about much of anything at all."He looked forward to beating you." 

"He didn't,"Logan snarled,bringing the knives very close to his face. 

Yes,that was pretty obvious.Hachiro wondered,almost idly,exactly how he was going to die.He had a feeling it wasn't going to be very pleasant at all. 

** 

    Logan had no thoughts;his mind was empty,full of nothing but a low white noise,like electricity,like anger.He was running on pure instinct now,fueled by nothing but hate,and he had no past,no future-there was only the present,and all that mattered in the present was that he quenched the pain that raged through his system,tearing him up from the inside out.And the only thing that could sate him was blood;it was the only thing that could make it go away. 

He didn't really know where he was,although on some level far removed from himself he did.He was simply following the scents of the damned:even the urban landscape of Tokyo and all its people couldn't cover them.There was no hiding for his enemy,no safety,no escape.If it took him years he would run his prey to ground.But he knew there was very little chance that any of them would survive the night. 

If he had any self awareness,he would probably judge himself insane,and that was undeniably true,but this Logan had none.This Logan had nothing but an ache and a drive caused by anger he had no desire to control,even if he could contain it somehow.There was something to be said for losing your mind. 

He was no longer in the urban sprawl of the city,with its miasma of people and carbon dioxide,food smells and decay.He crossed through a small wood,a copse rich with the scent of pine,and even though he stalked quietly across the loamy floor,night birds fell silent as he passed,many flying away in a panic as if they were his quarry.But he had no interest in any of them.He was hunting the most vicious of all animals-humans. 

After passing a small stream,he saw the doors ahead,the odor leading right through him.They were glass double doors, locked ,and he could have easily broken them,but a single kick shattered the lock and threw the doors wide open,the gauzy white curtains billowing in the wind. 

His prey started in his hospital bed and looked at him with his one good eye,the other socket shriveled and empty,a black hole in the ruin of his face.All Logan knew was he was the enemy,although far back,in a distant place in his mind,he knew this was Kyoshi Yashida. 

"Your brother murdered your daughter,"he growled at him,aware that the man's one eye was bulging in its socket,the stench of  fear smothering the scent of medicines and disinfectants."Why don't you congratulate him?" 

With that,he tossed the severed head of Hachiro Yashida right into the withered old man's lap. 

As Logan turned to go-a sick,bed ridden old man was no decent concept of prey-he heard the machine's hooked up to the man stutter,and then there was the incessant loud drone of flatline as the man's fragile heart finally gave out,but Logan never looked back. 

The flatline drone followed him back through the woods,and blended in to the white noise hum inside his own head. 

*** 

Santa Monica-Present Day 

    Haido heard the alarms and the tearing of metal as he continued down the emergency exit corridor,eager to leave ahead of Logan.He could regroup elsewhere,and when it came down to it,maybe a rocket launcher and seven pounds of plastique would take care of what Hellion and a squadron of men could not. 

The hallway was very cramped,as it literally was a passageway between walls;it did not exist on any blueprint or schematic.It was lit only by several pale yellow sensor lights,evenly spaced to reflect off the slender metal walls,and he often wondered if this was what a submarine corridor was like. 

The 'back door' was concealed,hidden by a facade beside a dumpster out back.If his life in the business had taught him nothing,it was always have an extra escape route,a way out for when things went completely bugfuck.Things hadn't gone apeshit for years and he'd almost gotten complacent,but then he'd seen those news reports about mutants fighting it out on Liberty Island,attempting to sabotage a U.N. meeting of some sort,and one of them was reported as 'clawed'... 

It made him wonder.It made him hire a private investigator in New York to find out.And he could still remember the fateful day when he opened the envelope and saw the print out of stills taken from a surveillance camera inside the Statue of Liberty itself,and saw...him. 

The angle was horrible,the lighting bad,and he couldn't quite make out his facial features,but it was him;he knew it beyond a shadow of a doubt.The only thing he knew was he had himself augmented since their last encounter;his claws were now encased in steel.To make him more lethal,he supposed.He had thought that Logan alone was lethal enough.But he had to push himself,become an even greater killer;the freak was a complete psychopath.He'd stop him if it took all of his resources to do it.The human race probably depended on it. 

He entered his security code into the door panel,and it hummed open quietly before the facade panel slid aside, revealing the dark,garbage strewn alley.Even though it would do no good if Logan burst through the wall,he kept his hand firmly on the gun in the pocket of his coat just in case. 

He had just cleared the dumpster and was headed towards the mouth of the alley when he heard someone say behind him:"So that's where you are.Very cute." 

Although his heart skipped a beat,the voice couldn't have belonged to Logan:for one thing,he didn't have an Australian accent.He gripped the gun tightly,then spun around quickly,ready to fire (in this game,no surprises were ever good),but the instant he intended to fire,he seemed to freeze. 

He found,waiting for him at the back of the alley,the pretty boy telepath Logan had come into the casino with,soaking wet and dripping all over the place,flanked by his sopping green freak of a girlfriend (although the wet t-shirt honestly did wonders for her),and a sodden Lau,who made absolutely no move at all to protect the man who signed his paycheck. 

"Now,that's not very sportin' mate,"the pretty boy went on,crossing his arms over his chest.The wet t-shirt was actually an acceptable look on him too."Shootin' us on sight.Didn't you read that book about makin' friends and influencing people?" 

Haido found himself rooted to spot,unable to move even a finger on the trigger.He didn't know what the man had done to him,but he found it almost physically impossible to look away from his peculiarly bright blue eyes.If he didn't know better,he'd think they almost glowed."H-how did you-"he began,mainly because he wasn't sure what else to say.He didn't have to use the trap door a lot,but when he did it was a foolproof and evidence free form of execution.People trapped behind the grate drowned,and after an hour or so the grate was raised and their bodies were flushed out into the sea.They were just hapless and stupid drowning victims;there was nothing sinister about it...well,as far as the coroner was concerned.And it was perfectly escape proof;once in the trap there was no way out. It was the human equivalent of a roach motel. 

"Oh,sorry,we busted your little drowning pool,"the pretty boy said,obviously being facetious."That's no way to treat a guest,by the way.I'm surprised a rude bastard like you has any repeat customers at all." 

He opened his mouth to speak,and this time nothing came out.It was like creeping paralysis.Hachiro began to wonder if Russell Crowe's cuter brother was in fact something far worse than a telepath. 

The green bitch came forward and tilted her head,looking at his face."That looks like a Logan calling card,all right. But wasn't this before that Organization fucked with him?" 

The Aussie got a surprisingly thoughtful look on his face,brushing aside a rather large hank of wet,dark hair that was clinging to his forehead and dripping water straight down into his eyes."Yeah,it was.Huh.Hel,why don't you go get Logan and tell him we have the guy he's looking for." 

The woman (what kind of a name was Hel?) shrugged and went over to the facade beside the dumpster,which he had just come out of,and managed to pry it open with brute strength.But the sealed door was proving harder."I need Mongo's help here,Bob." 

"Help her open the door,big guy,"the man said,and Lau obeyed without comment. 

Bob?Pretty boy's name was Bob?That didn't seem right at all.  
"He'll kill me,"he managed to croak,not without some difficulty.  
Bob gave him a look that he was at a loss to interpret,but it wasn't the friendliest glance in the world."No,he won't, not with me around.But you may wish he did."  
Haido suddenly wondered if maybe he should have stayed inside and took his chances with Logan. 

** 

    He found what had to be security central with almost no difficulty,but Logan knew before he broke in the door that the man he wanted was gone. 

A security tech bolted up from his seat,aiming a handgun at him."Look,I don't want to hurt you-"he began,clearly scared by scent alone. 

"You can't,"Logan pointed out,entering the room.It was dark,lit almost exclusively by the glow of the security monitors,a huge bank of which made up the right side wall.Of the twenty screens,several showed the damage and carnage of where he had recently been,which was no surprise since he had known he was being watched all along. 

"Umm,I know,"the guy admitted,reluctantly lowering his weapon,but still keeping it ready to fire."Look,I have no problem with you,okay?So don't hurt me." 

Logan snarled at him,and the guy tried to back up and nearly fell over his own chair.Pathetic."Where'd Scarface go?" 

"He left.He didn't want to run into you again." 

"Again?"He had sort of suspected they had a past history,Bloody Friday and all,but it was still shocking to hear. "Where'd we hook up before,Tokyo?What'd he say about it?" 

The man,who looked like your ubiquitous California surfer dude five years later and ten pounds heavier,made a sort of shrugging gesture with his hands."Not a lot.He just said you gave him the scars." 

"What scars?On his face?How?" 

The guy shrugged again,this time with his shoulders,and shook his head,messing up his neatly coifed blonde hair. 

It was then Logan got a solid whiff of seawater,and he turned in time to see a soaking wet Helga appear in the open doorway."You can let the small fry go,"she said,barely even sparing the man a glance.She was hardly even dismissive of the man;clearly he rated on her personal threat meter somewhere between housefly and doorknob."We got the big fish." 

He nodded,turning away from the tech,who was relieved to be spared the scrutiny.After looking her up and down -she was completely sopping,her green hair plastered down onto her scalp like a clump of seaweed;even her tail looked a bit limp-he asked,"Are you okay?" 

She quirked a slim green eyebrow at him."The half naked burned guy asks me that." 

"I'm not half naked,"he argued,looking down at himself.Okay,it looked like he lost most of his left pantleg too.But his skin had healed,pretty much;he wasn't burned anymore."It just got a little hot in there." 

She nodded,smirking slightly."And we got a might damp.Between us,there might have been a solution." 

He shrugged.There was never such a thing as a happy medium when you actually needed it. 


	11. Part 11

But as Logan followed Helga out,his stomach began to knot up in anxiety.Did he want to hear what this man would have to tell him?He was no longer sure,but he knew it was too late to change his mind.What was he so afraid of? 

Didn't he already suspect the absolute worst? 

Emma had been right-he was a killer.He just wondered why.                                                                                          

    11 

Tokyo,Japan-1981 

    Dayu was sitting in the dull white on beige lobby of his father's building,smoking the last cigarette in his pack and so goddamned bored he was sure he was going to fall asleep any second now. 

He checked his watch for the third time in as many minutes,and wondered why Yamura hadn't called.After he'd done Mariko and Logan,he was supposed to check in.It was amusing that Hachiro actually thought he was going to take over as soon as they were gone.He was,in theory,but it would do him no good;without Logan in the way,the Takabes could crush the remainder of the Yashida clan,especially in the chaos and leadership vacuum sure to result from their sudden,tragic deaths. 

Moto and Haruchi were watching television across the lobby,seated on the black cushioned futon that always made Dayu feel like he was on a torture rack,and Dayu noticed the screen was now showing crews fighting a raging fire somewhere.Somewhere that looked pretty damn familiar. 

He got up from the table by the darkened front window,and as he studied the screen,he asked,"Is that the Marusoto docks?" 

"Yeah,"Haruchi said,not even bothering to look away from the screen."A real four alarm son of a bitch;the whole thing is burning down." 

"Do you think Yashida screwed us?"Moto wondered. 

"And screw themselves too?"The Yashidas had a 'processing' area there,where the drugs were smuggled into the country from Hong Kong,but the Takabes had a 'plant' there as well.And as far as Dayu could tell,they were both burning.The red-orange flames were so high and intense,the dock looked like it was lit up like a sunny afternoon,the fire crew appearing as dark,scuttling insects in the shadows of those massive tongues of flame. 

And it wasn't as if those places weren't unguarded;they were better protected than the national treasury.So how could anyone,paid arsonist or stupid anarchist teenager,possibly get through? 

Dayu felt his stomach clench at the thought of a million and a half dollars worth of heroin burning up,being reduced to a worthless pile of ash.If his father saw this he'd blame him,and probably kill him.He hoped to god he wasn't watching the news right now. 

He suddenly wondered if this was connected to why Yamura had not called.He had an assault team ready to go,to deploy at Yamura's all clear...but what if things weren't all clear? 

No,that was impossible.That Russian shit could kill everything.The KGB were experts when it came to murder-you couldn't find better. 

The radio on his hip crackled,and he heard Saito,the outer perimeter guard,report in a panicky voice,"Sir,we've got some nut headed our way in a speeding car-I think he's going to break through the barricade." 

He pulled his radio off his belt and snapped,"So?Shoot him." 

"We have,"he replied,his voice reflecting his frustration."It-oh shit!" 

Dayu heard the crash,the sound of the outer gates being broken down,the squeal of brakes,with the staccato cough of automatic weapons fire in the background and random,assorted cursing."Saito,what's going on?"He shouted into the radio.By now,Haruchi and Moto were on their feet,no longer watching t.v.,and Moto had pulled his gun"Saito, report!" 

There were screams in the background,hideous and painful,and the sound of gunfire started dying away little by little,and he heard a voice,so hysterical he couldn't be sure if it was Saito or not,scream,"God,what's that coming out of his hands?!" 

Dayu felt almost physically sick.They were under attack,and he didn't know why,but he had a sinking feeling the 'he' the guard was referring to-not they,he;they were being attacked by a single person-was Logan.He either escaped Yamura,or he had survived.And now he was here to cut off some loose ends. 

It was impossible,but it made sense.It also explained the big fire at the docks-Logan cut through the security,and torched the place.Logan should never have been able to get through the security alone,mutant or not.Had Yamura switched sides? 

"Saito,"Dayu said into the radio."Anyone?Respond." 

But the only thing coming over the radio was a crackle of static that could have been the sound of flames consuming something-or someone.There were thirty men on the perimeter;they couldn't have been wiped out,certainly not so fast. 

At least not by anything Human... 

"Go upstairs,get my father to the safe house,"he told Haruchi,then headed for the door as he changed radio frequencies,and said,"I need the team deployed now.We are under attack at base.I repeat,we are under attack." 

He was a foot from the door when it seemed to explode open,and for a second he saw only a monstrous silhouette, something with broad,hunched shoulders and spikes coming out of its hands,but then he saw it was Logan,drenched in blood that was most likely not his own,his eyes hard and dead with pure,animalistic rage. 

Moto started shooting,and even though Dayu saw a couple of bullets hit Logan,splattering blood and making him jerk slightly on impact,he never stopped coming.He wasn't human,but mutant didn't seem to cover him either. 

Dayu knew with a cold shock that he was the devil himself. 

Before he could do anything,Logan slashed him with his bloody claws (and that's what they were,he realized-claws, like an animal's),driving one so deep into his gut that he thought he felt his sharp claws punch straight through his back.As he collapsed to the hard tiled floor,he thought he heard the shooting continue,but even more loudly he heard Logan growling like an enraged tiger,and as his consciousness faded out for what he assumed was the last time,he hoped Haruchi got his father out of here.But he had a sneaking suspicion,as gunshots gave way to screams,that there could never be any escape from something as evil as Logan. 

** 

    Izumo heard the noise outside,and from so far above he couldn't quite make out what was going on down there in the courtyard.Obviously some dumb ass was attacking them,but he couldn't see how many assailants there were.Stray bullets took out most of the security lights,so only sporadic bursts of gunfire lit the compound,rendering everyone into fleeting black shadows. 

He wondered if this was fallout from the Mariko/Logan offensive.But how?Although their security force was loyal to them,it ended at a certain point.If Logan wasn't around to put the fear of god into them,they wouldn't give a damn.  
Did that mean that asshole ninja had failed to take out Logan?A problem,but not insurmountable.And a full frontal assault on their compound was more than just pure insanity-it was sheer suicide. 

He walked away from the window and went to the bar,pouring himself a large scotch.He wondered who he could get to replace Dayu if the idiot got himself killed.Just about anyone would do;even Logan had proved to be a better security chief,and he was a fucking gaijin freak. 

The silence outside was almost deafening,and out of sheer curiosity,Izumo went back to the window,parted the curtains,and looked down.Ten stories below all was quiet and still,save for a small fire burning,casting a weak and flicking light over what appeared to be a battlefield filled with bodies.But he couldn't tell from here if the bodies belonged to the attackers or his security team.Bodies from a distance had a tendency to always look alike. 

He then thought he heard very faint,muffled gunshots within the building itself.Shit.Dayu was an even worse security chief than he had ever given him credit for. 

Silence descended again,but this time it was heavy and pregnant with menace.The fact that the shooting stopped should have been reassuring,but it was far from that.In fact,it seemed like waiting for the detonator of a bomb to go off. 

Izumo shut off the lights inside his study,and by memory alone made his way to his desk,where he sat down behind it and withdrew his own gun from its drawer.Guns were useless against Logan,of course,or at least it seemed that way,but Izumo had never seen him take a good,direct head shot.He doubted anyone would recover from having the back of their skull blown out.And he was a great shot,even in the dark. 

His eyes had adjusted to the dimness,and he had almost grown accustomed to the eerie silence in the building.He could have run,but he had a feeling Logan would expect that,and all he'd do was draw attention to himself.No,he'd be harder to find if he just sat still,and waited for Logan to finally track him down and walk straight into a trap.  
After what seemed several interminable minutes,he thought he heard noise in the front room,and tensed,aiming the gun square at the door,right at where head level ought to be for Logan. 

For what seemed like a frozen moment in time,he heard nothing but the thundering of his own heartbeat in his ears, and his arms were starting to hurt from being tensed in the same position for so long;his fingers especially starting to ache.He knew it was possible it was one of the guards who survived the massacre,coming to protect him or escort him out of the building,but wouldn't the idiot think to announce himself first? 

The door exploded open,and Izumo had to fire,as the man moved so fast he was a blur.He knew he had probably missed,so he kept his finger on the trigger,shooting until the gun was ripped from his hands.Almost in the same motion he was snagged by the collar of his shirt (and that's what it felt like-snagged,not grabbed) and yanked over his desk. 

Logan held him up by the collar,and Izumo realized he stank of blood;the smell was overpowering and almost nauseating.In the darkness he couldn't quite make out his face,but for that he was obscurely glad.He didn't want to see the face of this animal."How many people have you killed?"Izumo asked,genuinely curious.He also wondered if the mutie bastard had anything resembling a conscience. 

Logan snarled in his face,even his breath reeking of blood,and said,"Not as many as you,you motherfucking psychopath."He then threw him across the room,and Izumo hit his bookcase so hard he heard the wood crack right along with several of his bones,and he collapsed to the floor,several books cascading down on his head as the shelves completely collapsed. 

Logan stalked towards him,and for a moment he just stood there,looking down at him.Izumo got the feeling he was trying to decide exactly what he should with him,which gave him a little bargaining room perhaps.If he could speak.  
Right now it felt like there was a metal band around his chest,being wound tighter and tighter,and it was getting increasingly more difficult to breathe.Broken ribs,maybe a punctured lung.The freak was strong. 

"You made me-"Logan began,but then stopped.It sounded like he choked on his own breath.Perhaps bullets could hurt him,at least for a little while,and Izumo had gotten a lucky shot. 

But not lucky enough.Logan grabbed him by the throat and threw him back towards his desk.His back hit the edge hard enough to send an electrical shock of pain down his spine,and he once again collapsed to the floor,almost numb from the abuse."Is this how you plan to kill me?"Izumo wheezed,struggling for breath."Toss me around like a fucking chew toy?" 

"Death is too good for you,"he growled in reply.Izumo had no idea what that was supposed to mean,but it didn't sound as promising as it should have. 

"You brought this on yourself,"Izumo gasped,holding onto his aching side as he struggled to his feet.A sudden,sharp pain knifed through his chest,and made him stop trying to stand up.It was worse than he thought."You shouldn't have gotten involved,mutant." 

He supposed he should have expected Logan to grab him by the throat and haul him violently to his feet,exacerbating the pain,especially when he slammed him back against the desk again.It would have been wiser to keep his mouth shut,but he wasn't about to let some freak think he had beaten him,even if he had the upper hand for the moment. 

"You murdered her,you fucking bastard,"he ranted,bloody spittle hitting his face.Izumo winced in disgust."I never gave a shit what you fucks tried to do to me,but-"Logan seemed to hit some verbal roadblock.He wasn't a very articulate cretin,was he?All he could do seemed to be limited to the 'kill,smash,destroy' school,although admittedly he did that bit very well. 

"Are you trying to bore me to death?"Izumo asked,more bravely than he felt.Surely there was back up on the way from somewhere.He just had to hold out until they arrived. 

Logan made a noise somewhere between a growl and a roar,and swung him around violently,smashing him back first into the nearest wall.Stars exploded in front of his eyes as another deep shudder of pain ran through his body, and he thought he lost another couple of ribs,and maybe a vertebrae.One of Logan's hands seemed to be crushing his throat,but he wasn't strangling him,just holding him in place.For what? 

It was then Logan drove his fist into the wall right beside his face.No,not his fist-something he wore on his fist. Three...spikes?Knives?But they looked to be made of ivory or bone...bone... 

Holy fuck.They were coming out of his hands.Why didn't they know this freakazoid had knives in his hands? 

"I want you to suffer,old man,"Logan growled,his face so close to his he almost thought he was going to bite him."So you know what I'm gonna do?I'm gonna kill you in pieces.You'll never know when I'm coming,but you can't hide from me,and you can't protect yourself.I will find you,and I will carve myself off a new trophy.I will do this as long as you have pieces left to take." 

He couldn't possibly be serious.But still,Izumo felt his heart skip a beat or two,a fear induced adrenaline rush making him feel like he was about to hyperventilate,if his lungs would work that well. 

"Live in fear,Takabe,"Logan snarled,and he saw his fist coming for his face,all knives pulling back into his hand save for one. 

Izumo screamed as the knife/claw penetrated his left eye,although the tip was so sharp he never even felt it sever the optic nerve.All he knew was his vision went completely black,and suddenly there was a sense of void,emptiness in his eye socket as Logan withdrew his claw. 

Izumo could feel the blood running down his face,and while it didn't actually hurt (anymore)he still grabbed his face as Logan let him go,and sank to the floor,screaming in horror.His eye!The mutie fucker gouged out his eye! 

Logan flicked his hand away violently,and said in a low,deadly voice,"That was the first piece.See you around, Izumo." 

Logan simply stalked out,leaving Izumo screaming on the floor of his study,feeling remarkably helpless for the first time in his life. 

*** 

Santa Monica-Present Day 

    Bob had taken Scarface back to the car,figuring it was out of the way,and Logan had a sinking feeling that while he'd get answers,he'd get little to no satisfaction.Bob was bound to let the fucker walk,no matter what. 

When Helga led him to the otherwise empty parking lot behind a closed,run down import store,he found Bob sitting on the hood of his own car,leaning back against his windshield,hands folded neatly over his stomach as he seemed to be looking up at the stars.Except with the light pollution from the street and near by buildings,no stars were visible; the moon was barely visible,a tainted yellow crescent in the far corner of the sky. 

The guy who must have been Scarface was standing off to the right,as still as a statue.He was a pudgy middle aged man in a cheap brown suit,and Logan felt bitterly disappointed.He had expected more somehow.He wanted raving evil,and all he got was a mundane Japanese 'everyman'.At least Magneto wore a cape:while not evil in itself,at least it betrayed questionable judgment. 

"Whoa,who's your tailor?"Bob exclaimed,giving Logan a smart ass smirk. 

"Who's your hair stylist?"He shot back.With his hair plastered down to his scalp by water,his hair looked not only darker but not at all perfect.A first for Bob,as far as he knew. 

"You're not really one to talk,mate,"Bob replied,continuing to give him that shit eating grin. 

Logan scowled,aware he had set himself up for that,and briefly showed him his middle finger."Who is this dickwad ?"He asked,turning his gaze to Scarface. 

It was easy to see where he got the nickname:three long scars,almost white from age,cut across his face diagonally, from left temple to the bottom of his right cheek,and when he blinked you could see that one scar had almost cut his left eyelid in half.The spaces between the scars and their uniformity mimicked a pattern Logan had seen many times before-his own claws.He had slashed his face with his claws.When? 

Scarface stared back at him blankly,not quite seeing him at all;he was tightly under Bob's control,and probably didn't know anyone else was there. 

"His name is Haido Takabe,"Bob said,sitting up,although he remained on the hood of his car."Although his original name was Dayu Takabe.After surviving Bloody Friday he assumed the pseudonym Haido and let everyone think Dayu was dead,because he was afraid if you survived you'd come after him like you threatened to do to his father." 

"His father?"Logan asked. 

"The big cheese crimelord,Izumo Takabe." 

"I didn't kill him?"For some reason,that surprised him. 

"No.You swore to kill him slowly,one piece at a time,because you wanted him to suffer.It made Izumo so crazy with paranoia that he killed himself rather than wait for you to show up again and lop off something else." 

"Brutal,"Helga said,perching on the edge of the hood.She sounded approving."What'd he lop off first?" 

"Took out an eye." 

"I'd have gone for the dick,but an eye's good,"she replied casually,wrapping her tail around herself as if she was cold. 

"You always go for the dick,"Bob teased,nudging the back of her shoulder with the toe of his boot.She looked back at him and grinned. 

This was so fucking cold blooded he was appalled,but Logan was keenly aware he had done far worse than simply mutilate a man and drive him to suicide."Why didn't I kill him?"Logan asked,gesturing to Haido/Dayu.Even though the man was zoned out,a Bob zombie,Logan could no longer look him in the eyes. 

"He figured it was a lucky fluke he survived.Even he admitted it was probably proof you weren't in your right mind at the time." 

"I massacred two crime families.No fucking kidding I wasn't in my right mind,"Logan snapped,walking away from all of them to lean against the trunk.He no longer wanted to be here,or to hear this,and he certainly didn't want any of them to be around. 

"Did you remember?"Bob asked,his voice surprisingly gentle. 

Logan's stomach clenched.Bob had just confirmed his hypothesis.Bloody Friday was not the result of a gangland war; it was the result of a one man rampage.His rampage.Gods,he had killed all those people by himself in a single night.  
"No,I figured it out.What else would bring the Yashidas and Takabes together except a common enemy?Me."He sighed,and hung his head in his hands.He no longer had any interest in Scarface;as far as he was concerned,he'd inflicted enough suffering in his life. 

"I don't necessarily condone what you did,but I understand it,"Bob said."There was no innocents here."After a pause,he said,"Tell him what happened,Dayu." 

Logan wanted to tell him to shut up,but the man only heard Bob.In a monotone,he told him how they had plotted with a member of the Yashida family named Hachiro to use a synthetic poison created by the KGB to kill both him and a woman named Mariko Yashida-his wife.They knew they had to kill Logan first to have any shot at Mariko,and they thought they had killed him;but,as Logan could have told them if they had ever bothered to ask,he didn't stay dead.The same could not be said for Mariko. 

Logan didn't want to hear anymore;he didn't think he could bear to hear anymore. 

"I've heard enough,stop him,"he told Bob,sick with rage.He just didn't know if it was aimed at Dayu,himself,or every stinking last one of them.They were idiots,all of them,himself included. 

Maybe he was the biggest idiot of all-he thought he could have a life.That was for other people,normals,not him.But Mariko paid the price for that,not him.And even though he couldn't remember her at all,he wished she was here so he could ask her forgiveness for being such a stupid,selfish asshole,and for letting her get killed in his stead.He was so angry at himself he felt like clawing himself in the chest (not that that would do any good). 

"I'm so sorry,Logan,"Bob said,and the fact that he sounded like he meant it just infuriated Logan,although he wasn't sure why.He just hated anything that smacked of pity.It was no good to anyone. 

"Some things are better forgotten,"Logan muttered,rubbing his eyes.They felt sore and dry,and he had no idea why. Maybe the lack of sleep was finally catching up with him.Or it was the whole being on fire thing. 

"Not Mariko,"he replied,and Logan felt his stomach twist itself into a knot again.He had no memories of her,but just hearing her name now was like a machete to the chest.There was so much he couldn't apologize for,so much he couldn't make up for.He wondered if she ever really knew how dangerous he was to know. 

He was almost tempted to ask Dayu what Mariko was like,if she was happy with him (if she loved him in spite of what he was),but he couldn't.It was unlikely the man knew anyways,and what good was it now?She had died a long time ago,and it was all ancient history.And love meant nothing in war. 

It was then Logan knew they weren't alone. 

He smelled them first,then,as surreptitiously as possible,he scanned the area.The parking lot was sort of a nexus point of various businesses,and there were several alleys leading into and away from the parking lot.But one of his enhanced senses was sight:not only could he see great distances with great clarity,but he could see extremely well in dim to virtually non-existent light.He just hoped the eavesdropper didn't realize that. 

"Bob,"he said,and indicated with his eyes alone the alley off to their left. 

Bob glanced at the alley just in time for Emma to drop to her knees on the pavement and hit the ground with her hands. 

    12 

Santa Monica-Present Day 

    "No power!"Bob shouted,just as the fire erupted from her hands and started coming towards the car in two parallel lines of  flames. 

Just like that the fire fizzled out,aborted before it could get properly started,and Emma looked confused,slamming her palms on the ground again like it would do any good. 

She looked up in time to see Helga standing there,but before she could do much of anything,Helga had wrapped her tail around her throat and yanked her violently to her feet."Is that really all you got,sister?"Helga said derisively, yanking her towards the car.When she let her go,she sort of lobbed her towards Bob,spinning Emma like a top."You'll never last long as a one trick pony." 

Emma stopped short of the car,and looked as if she might fight or run (the latter was probably the wisest option),but she did the slightest of double takes as Bob caught her too."Now come on,there's no need for you to be a rude as your boss." 

"You owe Logan a shirt too,"Helga said,sitting down on the hood beside Bob. 

"And a pair of pants,"Bob added. 

"No,he's good without pants,"Helga replied."Actually,fuck the shirt.He doesn't need it either." 

"Hey,I'm right here,"Logan pointed out. 

"Don't get a swelled head about it,"Helga said,giving him one of several of her patented evil grins.At least he could say,without fear of contradiction,he had met an honest to god nymphomaniac in his lifetime.Why that wasn't more fun he had no idea. 

"Who the hell are you,and what's your beef with me?"Logan asked Emma,aware he no longer existed for her. 

"You heard him,"Bob said. 

"I am Emma Kai Nagal,and you're my father,"she replied tonelessly. 

He stared at her,wondering if the bottom had just dropped out of reality,or it just seemed that way."What?" 

"You know that how?"Bob prompted,looking only half as shocked as Logan felt. 

"Haido helped me trace my parents." 

"Why?"Bob asked.Logan still felt like he had been sucker punched. 

"I was abandoned in an orphanage in Tokyo,and adopted by Americans.There are no existing birth records for me except ones forged by the orphanage.Haido told me Logan and Mariko were my parents,and left me there because I was X factor positive." 

"Bullshit!"Logan snapped.Okay,he didn't know if that was true or not,but he couldn't believe they'd be so callous.Of course,he couldn't believe he was a father either;he'd thought he knew better than to bring another freak like him into this fucked up world. 

"Dayu,you heard her,"Bob said to his first zombie."You told her that,but it's not true,is it?" 

"No.I don't know who her parents are.I assumed Logan was her father because she was half white and mutant,but Mariko never had a child." 

Logan let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding.Oh thank god he wasn't her father.Besides,while genes took all sorts of crazy turns,how exactly did a healing ability lead to touch pyrokinesis?"So you let her join your hate obsession by convincing her Logan was the father who abandoned her,"Bob continued,nodding,as if it all made sense. 

"She was uncontrollable otherwise,"Dayu said. 

"This is fucking sick,"Helga angrily exclaimed."Let me gut the bastard." 

"Hel,"Bob replied,his voice placating and gentle. 

But Helga had worked up a head of steam and wasn't about to be calmed down."First of all,hon,this fuck was instrumental in murdering Logan and his wife;I know Logan got up again,but it still counts.And then he fucked with this girl's head so he could exploit her for her mutation.You can't just let him walk away clean."Her tail snapped behind her like a whip,getting very close to Bob without ever quite touching him.It seemed almost like a vague threat. 

"It's over,Hel.He's going to get out of the black market game,forget about revenge,and lead a quiet life of contemplation at a  Buddhist monastery,"Bob said,his voice still gentle and infinitely reasonable.Logan was with Helga on this,but that probably went without saying."And I can correct the damage done to Emma.No harm,no foul." 

"No harm?How many people did she burn to death in Bel Air?And what about your demon friend?"Logan asked sharply. 

Bob grimaced,and had the decency to look chagrined."I'm not excusing that at all.But I think there's some hope for reform here.She deserves a second chance away from this man." 

"Sometimes your goody two shoes shit complicates things,"Helga told Bob,apparently resigned to what he was going to do but not happy about it at all."We can take people out and not be the bad guys.Some people ain't worth saving." 

For some reason that sounded familiar to Logan,but he wasn't sure why. 

"Perhaps.But these aren't the people,Hel,trust me.The revenge cycle gets broken here." 

"Dayu here had no right to revenge,"she snapped impatiently."His family started this fight-Logan finished it.It was over a long time ago." 

Logan wondered why it didn't feel that way.How could an incident without memory feel like such an open wound? 

It was like life was trying to send him a message:never look back,you'll be sorry you did.He got that now.Perhaps it was time to stop trying to impose some semblance of order in his ravaged mind. 

Maybe the Organization did him a favor by getting rid of it all. 

"It ends now,"Bob told her,serene as always. 

Yes,Logan was sure it did.Probably in more ways than one. 

*** 

Tokyo,1981 

    Logan only knew he was on a roof of one of the taller buildings on the Ginza when he collapsed,too weak to go on in his present state.He felt like he had been beaten with a thousand sledgehammers,and until he healed his body was refusing to go any further. 

Even as he hit the hard surface of the roof,barely missing the square lump of an air conditioner that rose from the surface like a tumor,he felt distant from himself,removed.The rage was draining away,but nothing was taking its place;he felt fragmented,fractured,and worst of all,the pain hadn't stopped.It had just gotten worse. 

He curled up on his side,arms around his stomach,aware of almost every bullet still in his body,the metal feeling like ice inside of him,cold pellets that didn't hurt more than they felt like embedded stones,things that didn't belong. 

Now,the impact and exit wounds-they fucking hurt. 

Memories started coming back,in bits and pieces that resembled a puzzle on shards of broken glass.The blood was no surprise;he could smell it,taste it in his mouth,feel it on his skin.Some of the blood was his,but most of it was not.Far below,the city was alive with the screams of sirens from fire trucks and ambulances,and he wondered how many of those he was responsible for. 

He almost felt sick.God,what had he done?He didn't even want to think about it...but he knew,didn't he?His anger took over;all sense,reason,and morality had gone out the window.He was no better than an animal. 

It was like he imagined a black out for a drunk was like:he would remember things after the fact,as if someone else had done them,not him.But he never even had the comfort of being drunk,as his immune system fully metabolized alcohol,robbing him of even the simple joy of intoxication. 

He liked to think of it almost as a second personality,but truth be told,he just couldn't control the darkness inside him at times.Sometimes he didn't even want to try. 

That was why the Organization loved him,wasn't it?They were always trying to bring it out,preferring the uncontrollable side of him to the more human side,which he eventually realized although it took him to damn long, in his opinion. 

He was an idiot.He had always been an idiot. 

He could still remember Bloch,that fucking asshole,telling him,"You weren't built for normal society,Logan-why do ya even try?" 

He was right.He didn't want to admit it-any more than he wanted to admit he could control his 'wild side' if he really wanted to-but he might as well stalk the fringes with Mystique,darting in and out but never being truly a part of it,always remaining outside looking in with great contempt and plotting to destroy it all. 

Why had he come up here?Oh yes-to hide.It was his first instinct when he was badly injured and knew he'd need serious recuperation time to seek a place of safety.His first choice was always the forest-he could get lost in forests and jungles so easily,even arctic tundras;he could go where no other person ever could.But in the city he had liked to head for the roofs of buildings.People would search abandoned buildings and populated ones equally,but who searched roofs,especially of skyscrapers?Remarkably few people even considered it. 

He curled up in a fetal position,closing his eyes against the pain and the sirens and the memories of what he had just done,and he realized while most of the blood he could taste in his mouth was his,he would swear he could still taste Mariko's poisoned blood,and he couldn't hold back the tears. 


	12. Part 12

It was his fault,all his fault;he might as well have dosed her himself.He had promised to protect her,and in the end he couldn't even save her.In the end,he had killed her. 

He suddenly smelled her,felt her wrap herself around him,her body conforming to his as she pressed against her back, her breath caressing his neck as she wrapped her arms around him.He was insane;he was losing his mind,and this hallucination was probably the last straw.He knew if he concentrate he could will her away...but he didn't want to. He wanted to feel her one last time,not dying,not in pain."I'm sorry,"he whispered,every new sob like a shock to his lungs.One had gotten punctured by a bullet and was still reinflating itself,the tissue knitting together in a different kind of pain. 

"I didn't want this,"she said quietly.He knew what she meant (she was a figment of his imagination-of course he knew what she meant). 

"I know."And then,with great reluctance,he admitted,"I did."As if violence was a purging substance designed to take his pain away,he craved the blood of these bastards who had not only robbed him of Mariko but had tortured her,forcing him to give her the final,fatal blow.But the pain still remained:she had not come back,and if justice had been served in some cosmic or savage,archaic sense,it didn't feel like it. 

"The last thing I want is for you to suffer,"she said,and he could feel the ghostly kiss of her lips against his neck.   
"Don't let this eat you alive.Let it go." 

"I can't,"he sobbed. 

"Yes you can,"she insisted,assuming her stubborn resolve voice."You have to." 

Maybe that was true,but he didn't know if he had the strength to do it.How could you forgive something as evil as this?And how could he forgive himself for what he had done? 

"You're strong enough,"she had said,her voice fading away in the wail of sirens."I didn't fall in love with a coward." 

"Yes you did,"he replied,barely able to speak through the shuddering sobs that made him ache even more. 

"No I didn't,"she said,and he couldn't quite sense her anymore,except for the feeling of her lips on his cheek before the hallucination faded away,leaving him alone in his pain and his emptiness. 

But as he fell away into something between unconsciousness and sleep,he realized if he had loved her at all,he'd have to find a way to live through this,as he lived through all other supposedly lethal blows,and lived through his own insanity.For her if no one else. 

** 

Los Angeles-Present day 

    Helga could not believe he had set up a job interview for Lau (or,as she called him,Mongo),but hell,ever since Charidi,the weeknight bartender,had gone back home to molt,the Way Station needed some new blood. Figuratively, not literally.But Mongo being the size that he was,Bob figured he could take care of himself. 

He'd also put him out of a job,since his boss closed up Robin Hood's and took off;in this economic climate,that was a mean thing to do.It was all up to Lia now:if she figured she could stand him,he'd get the job. 

Helga was just a bit cheesed at him (still) because he let Dayu walk-with a new mindset,of  course,but it was the principal of the thing-but she was getting over it.She let the Emma thing slide a bit easier,all in all.All he did was take out the very bogus Star Wars 'your father is (Logan and) evil bit'-a surreptitious DNA test put an end to all speculation:the only thing she had in common with Logan was a basic humanness and a mutation-in Emma's head and let her go home to her folks (she was a runaway-about one in every four teenagers were in L.A.),unaware that she had ever worked for an ex-drug lord.He was torn about taking away the memories that she had killed-sadly,there was a bit of a psycho streak in the girl;she had enjoyed wielding her powers in a destructive manner-but he put a block on those memories for now.When she was older and perhaps a bit more adjusted to things,especially her powers,they could have a chat about it. 

Logan wondered how Bob knew so quickly Emma wasn't his daughter,and he told him it was simply math-she was too young:she'd have had to have been born months after Bloody Friday.Dayu had fudged the dates so they fit the story.It was a case of a bullshitter trying to bullshit one of his own kind,and that was simply not done. 

The temptation to push Logan a bit was there,and still was,but he was doing his best to let Logan come to a resolution on his own.He just seemed determined to kill himself about this. 

Bob hadn't told him the worst bit-that while the autopsy report had said Mariko was dying from the toxin,her actual cause of death was three parallel,sequential stab wounds that destroyed her heart.Logan had obviously mercy killed his own wife,and as far as Bob was concerned,that explained everything else that went on that night.They forced him to kill the thing he loved,and it made Logan snap.Bob figured it might make him snap too-and they thought an angry Logan could do some damage?What Bob guessed he'd lack in actual bloodshed he'd make up for in sheer numbers affected. 

Logan was probably brooding on the roof,which seemed to often be a favorite spot of his.Bob wondered if it was because he just wanted to be alone (who went up on the roof,except maybe a cat burglar and an occasional passing gargoyle,but either could pick better people to mess with than Logan),because he wanted the high point and all encompassing view of his surroundings,both things,or neither.Sometimes he was a very hard man to fathom. 

The fact that there was no way to actually climb up to the (seemingly) rickety roof of the Way Station was no impediment to Logan either;he just used his claws and hiked on up.Bob didn't feel like breaking out the climbing pitons or the grappling hook,but luckily Amaranth had come by for a drink and to shoot the shit,so she was able to just zap him up there. 

Logan was sitting on the far edge of the roof facing the street,smoking a cigar,and while he had his back to him, without even looking he said,"So the teleporter witch is back,huh?" 

"Well,yeah.She's a relative from Australia-she's visiting."She was a granddaughter,actually,only half Belial,and quite the witch.Apparently it was a hobby. 

Logan glanced over his shoulder at him and scowled."Last time you said she owed you a favor." 

"Well,that's true,sort of,but I'm a Belial,Logan-you gotta expect me to lie sometimes." 

Logan grunted in a sort of grudging acknowledgment."Hard to trust you then." 

"I lie about little things;no one gets hurt."Except when he lied about big things,but he decided not to mention that.  
He sat down on the edge of the roof beside Logan,within arm's reach but still not invading his space,which he knew was very important to him. 

Logan had some actual clothes now,not in the least bit burned,but they looked so much like his old ones pre-charring  you could be forgiven for thinking his clothes had regenerated themselves too. 

It was a clear day,the Santa Ana winds kicking up and signaling the unofficial start of wildfire season in the foothills (it was a good thing he had calmed Emma down before that),and the sky,while clear,was a flat and unattractive color he thought of as L.A. haze blue:as harsh as the Outback,but nowhere near as expansive or pretty.It was like the smog and the people had bled most of the color out of the sky,leaving only a fragile pastel afterimagine.It made him miss home sometimes. 

"So what are your plans,Logan?" 

"Plans?" 

"Your next move.I know you plan to leave-where are you going?" 

He shrugged,chewing on the cigar like a toothpick."Where is there for me to go?I don't know.Away seems good enough." Bob saw him massaging the knuckles on his own right hand,and when Logan caught himself doing it,he instantly stopped.Logan had put the same two and two together that he had:Logan had apparently clawed people even before he had the adamantium grafted to his skeleton.So the claws he had assumed were a completely artificial construct foisted on him like a sick joke were most likely an actual part of him,possibly an extension of his real skeleton,buried under adamantium.It seemed to appall Logan,and Bob guessed that he felt like a bigger 'freak' than ever before.That wasn't fair,but Logan could be pretty rough on himself. 

"You're giving up,aren't you?" 

Logan glanced at him,raising his eyebrow in that almost gravity defying way of his."What's that supposed to mean?" 

"It means you don't want to know anything more about your past,do you?You plan to let it go." 

"What else do I need to know?I'm a killer." 

"I wouldn't say that." 

Logan glared at him like he was the stupidest creature on the earth."I was single handedly responsible for a massacre, Bob.What would you say?Mass murderer?Fine." 

"I think there were some extenuating circumstances,Logan." 

He snorted derisively,looking down at the crumbling street several stories below."Well,that makes it all better." 

"I realize that fitting the definition of temporarily insane-" 

"Only temporary?"Logan interrupted. 

Bob frowned at him,but otherwise ignored him."-doesn't change anything,no,but it means you are not a cold blooded killer.You want proof?You could have wiped out the Takabes at any time during your employment with the Yashidas.At any time.But you didn't.Do you know why?" 

Logan continued to scowl down at the street as if it had personally offended him in some way.There was nothing on this block that was pretty to look at-even after all this time it still had scars of the L.A. riots from the '90's-but that made it all the more easier for demons to come and go as they pleased.This was the neglected part of L.A.,the part everyone wanted to forget,and nowhere people like Logan fit in here just as well as any demon.It made him feel obscurely sorry for Logan and all the humans (mutants) like him."I wasn't hired to take them out;I was hired to protect the Yashidas,"he finally admitted. 

Logan wasn't dumb,although enough snide remarks from Scott might make you think that way.It was just you had to get him to think past his emotions.For a stoic guy,he was extremely emotional."Right.If you were a cold blooded killer,you'd just have wiped out the Takabes and have been done with it.But you didn't;you did your job,and you did it well.You just got pushed to the edge,Logan.If I were you,I'd probably have done the same thing." 

"You're not like that,"Logan said,taking the butt of his cigar out of his mouth.He looked like he was about to pitch it down into the street,but he seemed to have second thoughts.Probably a wise idea considering all the flammable trash that had a tendency to collect in the gutters. 

"Oh mate,you'd be surprised what I'm capable of,"he said,not quite proud of it.They all had their dark side;some were just a little closer to the surface,that's all. 

Logan studied him for a moment,then replied,"No I wouldn't." 

That was almost funny."You live to be contrary,don't you?" 

Logan looked away,but not before Bob saw the hint of a smile on his face."It keeps things interesting." 

They sat in silence for a long while,looking at the decayed cityscape around them,and Bob could feel himself getting depressed.It really wasn't worth it to stick your head out of the Way Station;it made him miss Australia quite badly. And sometimes waiting for Logan to actually say something was a trial. 

"They don't know how old I am,they found armor in my belly,"he began to sing under his breath."From the sixteenth century,conquistadors I think-" 

"You make some of these songs up,don't you?"Logan accused. 

"No,that's a real one that always makes me think of you,"he said,not adding that there were several songs that reminded him of Logan,now including that Soundgarden song that included the line "I shot my love today,would you cry for me".There were just some things you kept to yourself. 

"Why?"Logan asked,then shook his head."No,I don't wanna know."He took another puff off his cigar butt before finally starting to talk,which was what Bob had been waiting for all along."You know what else bugs me?I could have kids out there.Emma wasn't mine,but I could have kids somewhere,and that never even occurred to me before. And I wouldn't know 'em if I met 'em.Hell,I could have an ex-wife or two too;maybe in a nursing home by now,but still I wouldn't know her either.It just bugs the hell out of me." 

"Which-kids,or the fact that you wouldn't know them?" 

He shrugged helplessly with his hands."I don't know.Both,I guess.But they probably wouldn't know me either,so it all evens out." 

Logan was trying to be nonchalant,but there was a clear undertone of  regret and sadness in his voice.He had long ago given up on having a semblance of a normal life,and while he acted like he had no regrets about it,some part of Logan still ached to be 'normal',whatever the hell that was.Not that he'd ever admit that,but he didn't need to;Bob got that,loud and clear.Bob also knew Logan would appreciate a change of subject,so he decided now was a good time to do just that."I have a proposition for you,"he began,aware Logan wasn't much for conversational foreplay. 

"I'm flattered,Bob,but you're really not my type,"he replied,stubbing out his cigar on the edge of the roof. 

"Hey,serious guy makes a joke!Nice start,but keep your day job.Anyhoo,the deal is this:stay here for now,and let me help you find some answers." 

"I think I've got enough answers,thanks." 

"Don't be chickenshit,Logan,it doesn't suit ya." 

Logan's head snapped around so fast he was surprised he didn't give himself whiplash,and he already knew he pissed him off,but sometimes you needed to get someone's attention.Bob went on before he could lash out."Okay,this was a real shitty,regrettable chapter of your life,but that's no reason to give up.They robbed you of your life,Logan.You can't be content to let them get away with that." 

"Hey,it's my choice,"he snapped,flicking the dead cigar butt into the street.He actually got good distance on it-it almost hit the sidewalk across the way. 

"Yes,it is.But I can offer you something no one else can:safety.The Organization can't hurt you-or any of us-here,not with me around.Maybe they can counter mutants,and possibly even vampires,but they will never have a counter for me.And they will answer my questions,because they have no way to refuse." 

Logan glanced away,not wanting him to see he was actually thinking about it.But he was,just like Bob knew he would.The biggest impediment to looking for answers was that people seemed to get hurt around Logan when he did so,himself included.But he had to know the closest thing to a sure bet was teaming up with him. 

After a long moment,in which Bob was tempted to start singing again,Logan said,"You said it was a proposition. What is it you want from me in return?" 

"Oh,just a blow job now and then,"Bob replied casually."You got a purdy mouth,boy."He then grinned at him,and Logan laughed,shaking his head in disbelief. 

"Very funny." 

"Truth be told,I want nothin' from you,mate,but I know,being Mister Proud,you neither like nor trust free rides.So basically I thought if something comes up I can't really or don't want to handle,maybe you could step in for me." 

Logan seemed dubious,which he expected.Sometimes it was just fucking mind blowing how much he reminded him of himself as a youngster.He wondered if they were somehow distantly related.Gods knew it was probably possible, even if he was all human."I hope that's not code for using me as muscle or a bagman." 

"Now come on,I have Helga for that." 

He nodded,briefly thudding the heel of his left boot against the wall in impatience.He was torn;Logan was confused, and in cases like that his first inclination was to run.His post traumatic stress disorder-which told him staying still too long was deadly-didn't help matters either."Look,"Bob continued,as gently as possible."Muscle's always a possibility;I can't rule out a fight.'Cause,in the demon world,Human is synonymous with weak." 

"Is it really?"He heard the dark sarcasm in his reply,and knew Logan could never walk away from a challenge. Especially if someone was inferring he was a wussy. 

"Give me a week.You don't like it here,or you really don't want the info,it's cool.Just give it a chance,huh?" 

Logan thought about it seriously,staring at nothing,or perhaps the fire gutted,abandoned building across the street, which was basically the same thing."That's what you came up here to tell me?" 

"Well,that and I'm goin' to New York tonight,so if you want me to say howdy or fuck you and the horse you rode in on to the mutant gang,let me know." 

"Why are you going to New York?" 

"Oh,I finally accepted Xavier's invitation to be a guest speaker.I'm gonna tell the kids about the multiple universe theory currently believed by some in the quantum physics field and how fucking wrong it is.I can't wait to tell the psychic kids how they both violate and prove the uncertainty principal.Ain't quantum physics a hoot?" 

Logan gave him almost the exact same look Helga gave him when he told her-like he had just announced his intention to shred all his money into cole slaw to feed the Third World nations and run off to clown college.That was a hell of a look."I'll take your word on it,"he finally said,looking away with the most minute shake of his head. 

As a battlefield general Logan was top notch,but obviously physics was not his deal.That was okay;you really didn't have to understand it all to have it fuck up your life completely. 

"I bet Scott's looking forward to seeing you again,"Logan opined wryly."Almost as much as he'd look forward to seeing me." 

"Yeah,well,Jean would be happier if it was you.Can you believe she doesn't quite trust me?" 

"You?Nah."The sarcasm in Logan's voice made Bob smile. 

Logan stood up,and Bob followed suit,not surprised Logan made no comment about Jean:right now he was ready to renounce all contact with anyone of the female persuasion out of fear he would get them killed.Of course he liked sex too much to keep to that forever (who didn't?),but for now he was the strangest de facto monk there had ever been.And since Helga liked a challenge too,he wondered how long Logan could hold out against her,his lingering guilt about 'cuckolding' Bob aside.What Helga wanted she almost inevitably got. 

"Before I left,though,I wanted to show you something,"Bob told him,aware of what a loaded statement that was. 

Logan turned to him scowling."If it's more photos or police reports,I don't wanna see them." 

"Trust me,it's not.This is something you'll want to see.Okay?" 

He remained doubtful,but reluctantly shrugged in acquiescence."Yeah,okay." 

Bob took his cell phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and flipped it open,hitting the preprogrammed number as he raised it to his mouth."Two to beam up,Mr. O'Brien,"he said as soon as she answered,getting the oddest look from Logan. 

"You are such a geek sometimes,granddad,"Amaranth sighed into the phone,and Bob found it hard not to laugh. 

There was such fun to be had in mortifying your grandkids;he was sorry so few others realized that. 

Still,there was a momentary sense of displacement,and then they were standing on a close cropped green lawn under the light of a nearly full moon,the air cooler and just a smidgen cleaner than the air they had left behind in Los Angeles. 

Logan staggered back a couple of steps,but otherwise kept his balance as he glanced around in wide eyed shock."What the fuck was that?"He asked,briefly turning ashen before color infused his face anew. 

Normal humans didn't take teleportation well at all;they usually ended up on their knees barfing from the universe's worst case of motion sickness for five to ten minutes after,and there were certain demons (vampires immediately came to mind,as did slime demons) that it incapacitated in the same way.But he was gambling that Logan's super duper regenerational capability could even take this,the physiological equivalent of a sudden,near light speed slingshot around the world.The fact that he stumbled rather than collapsed and looked only briefly nauseous proved he was right beyond his wildest expectations. 

"That was your first teleport.Congrats,you did great." 

Logan glared at him,as usual not in a partying mood."You could warn a guy." 

"Oh,but where's the fun in that?"He then said into the phone,"Thanks,Ammy." 

"Yeah.But why don't you try and bring yourself home?"She said teasingly."Stop bein' a slacker." 

"Do you really want a postcard from the Zhr'ethrin dimension?Stand by."He flipped the phone shut and slipped it back into his pocket. 

Truth be told,he could technically teleport without help,having both the power and knowledge to do it.But his teleportation aiming skills left a bit to be desired,much like his ability to park.The last time he teleported himself he ended up in the right place but the absolutely wrong dimension,and not one of the better dimensions either.He couldn't get back fast enough.Amaranth didn't get that,since her teleportation skills were limited to this (Earth) dimension,but she didn't have an overwhelming psychic energy queering the pitch.He had enough power to technically invert a dimension if he really wanted to,but it could possibly kill him,and also there was the huge 'why' factor.But,if he needed it,it was there. 

"Zhr'ethrin?"Logan repeated curiously,almost stumbling over the syllables. 

"Nasty place.Don't worry,we ain't there-we ain't up to our armpits in butterscotch pudding,are we?" 

Logan continued to glare at him."I don't get you sometimes." 

"Well,no one's perfect."He didn't bother to add he wasn't joking,as that was a conversational tangent that wouldn't help them now. 

"Where the hell are we?"Logan asked,looking around and trying to scowl their surroundings into submission. 

The rolling,expansive green lawn gave way to a copse of tall fir and fruit trees in the distance,but behind them were marble steps leading up to what appeared to be a mock up of either a library or a Buddhist temple,with a neat swath of lawn and what looked like a granite plinth between them and the building. 

"Tokyo,Japan,this reality,"he told him,walking towards the plinth,which was about five feet tall and ended in a neat,flat top.It was an almost perfectly rectangular column made of what appeared to be dark,river smoothed stone rising straight from the earth like a small tower.It was elegant and beautiful,even from the back. 

The flowers,wrapped in brightly colored cellophane,laid on the grass about six feet from the plinth,attesting to Amaranth's wonderful aim.She'd have been a hell of a football or darts player if she didn't think all sports were moronic. 

Bob bent down and scooped them up,barely even breaking his stride,but paused when he realized Logan wasn't following him.Looking back,Logan was rooted in the same spot he had been after teleport,looking around at everything in a way that suggested both intense concentration and minor panic."Do you recognize anything?"Bob asked. 

"No,"Logan admitted,and he could hear the tension in his voice even before he saw it on his face.It seemed to gather in the corner of his eyes,making his face look gaunt,his eyes a thousand years old."I don't want to be here,Bob.Tell her to send us back." 

"We won't be here long,Logan.Come on,I assure you we're safe." 

Logan shook his head,swallowing hard,his jade eyes almost bright with fear."I can't do this,Bob." 

It was an awful thing to see Logan this genuinely terrified,and a very rare thing.He usually just swallowed his fear and got on with it when something did freak him out,but now he was virtually petrified.And it wasn't of a person or a thing,just his own past and the things that haunted him,even though he had no clear memory of them at all.A person or a thing he could beat;he could do nothing about ghosts and time. 

Bob looked at him with sympathy,and said in a low,calming voice,"This is the only solace I can offer you,Logan. Please take it." 

He remained outwardly tense,but Bob knew inside he was reeling,in an emotional free fall,and not sure how he was supposed to feel or react.Bob could push him but wanted Logan to come to this for himself.After a moment,he nodded with great reluctance and made himself follow,curiosity most likely winning out over everything else. 

He didn't have far to lead him,just around to the front of the plinth.When Logan saw it he froze,a deer in high beams,and then his legs seemed to buckle,dropping him to his knees in front of  the stone monument. 

It was,in fact,an expensive,ornate gravestone,marking the passing of Mariko Yashida,whose picture was encased in plexiglass at the top of the small obelisk.It was a lovely head shot,showing her with flowing black hair,bright hazel eyes and a radiant smile that seemed to light up her delicate face. 

"I told you you'd recognize her,"Bob said gently,placing the bouquet to the right of the grave marker. 

Logan was simply staring up at her picture,it didn't even seem like he was breathing,and finally he said in a remarkably small voice,with the first tear escaping from the corner of his eye,"She liked roses." 

"Great,fine,roses we'll get,"he agreed,grateful for the opportunity to walk away and leave Logan some privacy in which to grieve in.He pulled the phone out of his pocket and punched up Tokyo information,glad that he had a cell phone plan like no one else on any of the particular Earths,and hoped that,in some small way,Logan could lay this particular ghost to rest. 

And maybe someday he'd even forgive himself. 

The End 


End file.
